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“Just before he reached the intended fort there was a rush behind, and 
something heavy landed on his back.” See page 57. 



Chums of the Prairie 


BY 

ST. GEORGE RATHBORNE 

AUTHOR OF 

** Sunset Ranch,” “Rival Canoe Boys,” “The Young Range Riders,'' 
“Canoe and Camp-Fire,” etc. 



NEW YORK AND LONDON 
STREET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS 


n'] 


"thF UBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 
Two COPItS RECtlVED 

JUL, 18 1902 

COPVRIOHT ENTRY 

CLASS ^XXc No. 
COPY 8. 


Copyright, 1902 
STREET & SMITH 


Chums of the Prairie 


CONTENTS. 


The Lone Dugout . . . . 

Paradise Camp .... 
The Bear Den in the Coulee , 

How Karl Got His Elk 
The Gray Terror in the Pine . 
Trouble in the Air 
Those “Bad Men’* . . . 

A Memory of the Stampede 
Winter in the Wilderness 
The Gallant Old Elk at Bay 
The Bear That Went Fishing 
An Invasion of the Wolves 
Tatters Sounds the Alarm 
Bounding Horse Comes Into Camp 
The Flight From the Happy Land 
Adrift on the Current 
The Lone Vidette . . . . 

How Cuthbert Did It 
The Fire Gantlet . . . . 

Back to Dear Old Sunset Ranch 


7 

20 

32 

45 

58 

71 

84 

97 

III 

126 

*35 

*47 

161 

*74 

*87 

200 *« 

2*3 

225 

239 

252 



CHUMS OF THE PRAIRIE 


CHAPTER I. 

THE EONE DUGOUT. 

Two boats, pla/in, roomy dugouts, well loaded with a 
winter’s outfit, were pushing slowly against the current 
of a stream deep in the heart of the mysterious Big Horn 
range of mountains, as the shadows of coming night be- 
gan to lend a weird aspect to the heavy pine timber cov- 
ering the banks. 

The pilot-boat contained but one figure, a man long 
past the meridian of life, yet whose arms plied the paddle 
or setting pole with a vigor that age had not diminished. 

Two sturdy lads occupied the second craft, none other 
than our young friends of Sunset Ranxrh, Cowiboy Karl 
and his chum, Cutbbert Lee. 

Since early dawn they had pushed up this same ser- 
pentine creek, cheered by the intelligence from their 
guide and mentor. Old Sile, that the long and wearisome 
v'oyage would reach its conclusion about sundown. 

Worn out with their exertions, they had long since 
lapsed into silence, so that beyond an occasional grunt 
from the guide there was no sound to be heard save the 
swish of paddles or the gurgle of the clear, cold water 
against the proiw of each boat. 

Old Sile was eagerly scanning his surroundings as 
seen in the gloaming. 


8 


The Lone Dugout. 

Some years had passed since last he spent a winter in 
the wilderness, and more or less changes bad taken place 
during that time; 'but his keen eye recognized many 
familiar objects that undoubtedly aroused vivid memories 
of adventures in the past. 

When finally he uttered an exclamation of intense sat- 
isfaction, and turned shoreward, no urging with cowboy 
quirt or hackamore was needed to induce the boys to 
speedily follow his example. 

So the two boats grounded, their occupants sprang 
out, and the bo'ws were drawn snugly up on a little 
pebbly beach that seemed especially designed by nature 
for a landing. 

“Alabama — here we rest !” sang out the Virginia lad, 
joyfully. 

He seized Karl around the body, and both boys in- 
dulged in a genuine grotesque Indian dance, such as 
they had witnessed many a time in the villages of the 
Crows and Sioux. 

Old Sile was feeling rather stiff himself after so many 
hours of cramped work in the boat, and could easily par- 
don this rollicking, boyish spirit, especially since it was 
indulged in with the idea of relaxing their muscles ; but 
he busied himself with the more profitable task of un- 
loading some of the boat stores. 

Karl, always quick to take a hand, was speedily help- 
ing, while Cuthbert, to whom clung some of the Southern 
habits, chose first to glance around, filled with eager 
curiosity concerning this home in the vast wilds to which 
Old Sile had led themi, and which was to be their stamp- 
ing ground for long months. From the sombre depth of 
the timber came the tremulous cry of the screech owl, 
sounding very familiar to Cuthbert and bringing to his 
mind the grand forests of his dearly beloved Virginia, 


The Lone Dugout. 9 

where he had tramped, gun or rod in hand, many a time 
in search of fin, fur or feather. 

There was no sign of any shack or cabin in this 
primeval wilderness, but Cuthbert did not wonder at such 
absence, for he was well aware that so old and cautious a 
campaigner as Sile would never build his habitation in 
the open, where it might be seen by every hostile Indian 
who chanced to pass up or down the creek. 

Somewhere in that thick tangle he had a secluded den, 
but in spite of numerous questions, he had kept the boys 
quite in the dark concerning its character. In conse- 
quence they had the liveliest curiosity imaginable with 
regard to the structure which was to be their home while 
the frost king held dominion over mountain, valley and 
plain. 

Just now, however, they were so tired that both would 
gladly have camped on the spot. 

And the veteran knew they would not take the interest 
they should in what he had in store unless first refreshed 
by supper. 

Accordingly, he gave Karl the signal to start a little 
blaze, over which the coffee-pot was soon merrily singing, 
while the appetizing odor of bacon tantalized the hungry 
trio almost to the point of desperation. 

When Karl sounded the tocsin by rapping on a tin 
kettle the others lined up, finding seats on a convenient 
log. 

There is no appetizer like fatigue and fresh air, and 
ceremony being thrown to the winds, each one made away 
with the food with ridiculous haste, eager to appease the 
demands of nature. 

The fire crackled and snapped, the creek, as yet free 
from ice, gurgled on its way toward the Big Horn, and 
from the woods came various noises of the night ; but the 
three pilgrims who had penetrated this wilderness ven- 


10 


The Lone Dugout. 

tured not a word in the line of conversation until they 
had, by industrious work, taken the edge off their 
appetite. 

By degrees, however, their jaws wearied of the fray, 
and one remark broke the ice, so that presently they were 
chatting on various topics connected in some way with 
their crusade. 

The boys found their curiosity reawakened with regard 
to the hermitage of which their old friend and guide had 
so frequently spoken, and declaring that their weariness 
of body had quite departed, they demanded that he satisfy 
their desire to set eyes on the same without any more 
delay. 

In truth the veteran was secretly anticipating some 
such move on their part, and had laid his plans accord- 
ingly. He felt an intense desire to ascertain whether the 
old nest that had sheltered him several winters past still 
defied the elements, for though uncouth in many of his 
ways and blunt of speech, Old Sile could cherish deep 
down in his heart a sincere affection for a snug nest 
which had served him faithfully as a home during one or 
more winters. 

Education and culture are not at all necessary elements 
in awakening such a feeling in the heart of man — indeed, 
more often they serve as obstacles, blunting nature’s 
tributes. 

Supper being over, the old ranger lighted his pipe and 
then announced himself ready to lead the way to the spot 
where his former quarters had been located. 

“It ain’t fur off — jest ’longside the hill yonder,” he 
declared, encouragingly, designating the particular spot 
with a wave of his hand, though the boys could not see 
any sign of an elevation in the darkness by which the lone 
camp was surrounded. 


The Lone Dugout. II 

Old Sile picked up a blazing fagot which would serve 
fairly well as* a torch. 

“Not without yer guns, boys ; never go anywhere with- 
out weepons. Foller that plan an’ it’ll keep ye out of 
much trouble, p’raps save yer thatch some day,” the old 
sage drawled impressively, with an earnestness born of 
long experience. 

Karl should have known better — Karl, who had spent 
most of his life on the range and encountered the vicissi- 
tudes of fortune such as fall to a cowboy’s lot. 

He picked up his gun rather sheepily, for it was his 
secret ambition to stand well in the opinion of the vet- 
eran. 

Leaving the campfire sparkling in the rear. Old Sile 
led the boys up through the dense forest growth. 

How grotesque the tall trees looked in the weird light 
of that waving torch ! 

More than once Cuthbert was positive he could detect 
curious eyes fixed upon them, belonging to some of the 
woods folk ; but whatever animals these were, they slunk 
away before the torchlight betrayed their identity. 

Old Sile was pleased to see such evidence that the ad- 
jacent timber had again been peopled by those animals 
driven away by the presence of man, when he and his 
trapping pard last wintered in this locality. 

Thicker grew the forest, until it was only with some 
difficulty they pushed their way through the creepers and 
underbrush. 

“Look!” he said, with a strange, husky tremor in his 
voice, “thar she is, lads, just as me and poor Bob Ruggles 
left her three years ago.” 

They strained their eyes and discovered a rude log 
house that seemed to be built against the face of the hill 
— overgrown with creepers, and half hidden by fallen 
leaves and dead branches, so that one might have passed 


12 The Lone Dugout. 

within ten feet of the door without suspecting its pres- 
ence. 

“Why, it’s a regular dugout,” said Karl, who had more 
than once lived in such a place. 

Old Sile chuckled. It did him good to again set eyes 
on this lone habitation. 

“That’s what it is, my boy, all of it, and as cozy a den 
as ye were ever in. Many’s the night Bob and me sat in 
yonder as snug as two bugs in a rug, while the wild 
norther tore through the mountains and screeched like a 
army o’ demons let loose. Let’s go inside and see if she’s 
dry as ever.” 

Another moment and he was at the door, which was 
discovered to be loose, one of the deerskin hinges having 
parted. 

Just as Old Sile put his hand out and drew the wrecked 
door further ajar, there was a sudden flurry inside the 
structure, a wild screech, and then a heavy body, with 
glaring eyes, came springing through space. 

The veteran might be taken by surprise, but his pres- 
ence of mind never deserted him, so when he saw this 
fearful shape coming through space directly at him, he 
struck out with the blazing torch and landed a center 
shot. 

“Fair ball!” cried Cuthbert, as he saw the uncanny 
creature knocked clear back into the cabin by the force 
of the sudden and violent concussion. 

Karl, always quick to act, had pushed forward under 
Old Sile’s arm, his gun thrust out and a nervous finger 
on the trigger. 

“Steady, lad; atween, the eyes, now,” cautioned the 
veteran, coolly. 

The wildcat had landed on the floor and was crouching 
for another spring when Karl’s rifle spoke. 

That ended the trouble. A few kicks, together with 


The Lone Dugout. 13 

most fearful growls, and the savage brute yielded up the 
ghost. 

Cautiously our friends entered, but there seemed to be 
no further danger — the wicked beast lay stretched upon 
the floor, incapable of creating damage, since Karl had 
fortunately shot to kill. 

“I like that; it speaks well for what is in store for us,” 
declared Cuthbert, stooping to examine the defunct 
animal. 

“What I calls a warm reception like. The critter’s evi- 
dently been makin’ hisself to home here. Reminds me o’ 
the time a bar climbed through the windy yonder, and 
when Bob walked in thar was ole Bruin settin’ on the 
floor gobbling up a bucket o’ wild honey we’d got out o’ 
a bee tree. 

“They was some hot times around here just then. I’ll 
tell ye ; and Bob had an argyment with mister bear that 
lasted nigh on half an hour. When I kim along thar he 
was a sittin’ on the ole thief, covered from head to foot 
with blood and honey. Such a job as it was to clean up 
after that ere Irish wake,” and the old fellow chuckled, as 
in imagination he again saw the ludicrous spectacle. 

“See here, this is the queerest bobcat I’ve ever run 
across!' Seems to have tassels on his ears, I declare,” 
announced Cuthbert. 

At this Old Sile condescended to examine his fallen 
enemy a little closer. 

“Wall, I declar to Moses, if it just ain’t one o’ them 
air miserable Canada lynx chaps, the fust I ever see 
’round these parts. P’raps it was jest as well yer lead 
clipped his heart, Karl, for they do say these here fancy 
cats beat all creation in a scrimmage, and if given half a 
chance I reckon he’d a done some tall scratchin’ among 
us fellers. I’m just as pleased to see him stretched out.” 


14 The Lone Dugout. 

“And here’s our first pelt. We’re beginning early,” 
declared Cuthbert. 

The boys now remembered their curiosity concerning 
the shelter that was to be their home for five long winter 
months, so leaving the dead cat where it had kicked its 
last, they set about a little tour of discovery. 

Dugouts may vary in size or elegance, but they are in- 
variably of one pattern — a cave in the face of a hillside, 
with some sort of a log cabin built in front. A lowly 
habitation, no doubt, but extraordinarily cool in summer 
and warm in winter, as those who have ever spent much 
time in such a rude shelter will positively affirm. 

Usually the fireplace is in the back part of the under- 
ground section, the smoke escaping through a rough 
chimney fashioned out of sod. 

Old Sile had found the stump of a tree above, which 
served admirably as a funnel, or chimney, though there 
was always more or less risk of its taking fire at some 
time when the occupants of the lowly home beneath 
raised a hotter blaze than ordinarily. 

The place was in fair condition considering that sev- 
eral seasons had passed since last it had human occu- 
pants. 

A couple of bunks had been built in the inner sanc- 
tuary, with good stout pine as the basis, and there was 
quite sufficient room for a third of the same character. 

Besides, there was a rude but serviceable table, rustic 
and comfortable chairs, some shelves, a very elaborate 
cupboard and other evidences of genuine luxury, proving 
that the two trappers, finding that time hung heavy on 
their hands during furious blizzards, had resorted to this 
means of occupying their minds rather than be idle. 

A few fairly-serviceable cooking utensils still hung 
where they had been abandoned, while upon the wall ant- 


The Lone Dugout. 15 

lers of a big elk, together with some other mementoes of 
the chase, gave this dugout the air of a hunters’ camp. 

Karl was well pleased, while Cuthbert fairly bubbled 
over with enthusiasm. 

This was what he had dreamed of while roving the 
Virginia woods in search of small game — a cot in some 
vast wilderness, far away from the haunts of men, where 
with congenial friends he might spend happy days in the 
pursuit of game. 

That time had come, and Cuthbert felt as though life 
could have no dearer wish. 

Old Sile was happy, too. He looked fondly on these 
familiar things that aroused pleasant memories of the 
past, and then his wrinkled face took on a solemn look as 
he suddenly bethought him of that jovial partner, whose 
voice he would hear no more. 

“This is just splendid,” declared Cuthbert. 

“Yes, with these leaves swept out and some cleaning 
done, we’ll be ready to go to housekeeping right away,” 
said Karl. 

“I’m right glad you like it, boys. It can’t be beat fur 
comfort when snow flies. All ye want is a good stock o’ 
wood for the fire and ye kin larf at any storm. Now, 
shall we hustle the duffle up hyar now or wait till 
momin’ ?” 

Karl looked at Cuthbert. 

Then both laughed. 

“To tell the truth. I’m a little sore in the arms after 
such a day of paddling and poling,” admitted the former. 

“And though you did the lion’s share of it, Karl, I’m 
pretty nearly dead. I vote we camp by the fire and move 
to-morrow,” said the Virginia lad, candidly. 

“Second the motion,” put in Old Sile, who knew the 
condition of his protegees, and considered it a sensible 
thing to do. 


i6 The Lone Dugout. 

So they hung up Mr. Bobcat outside, pushed the loose 
door to, and made their way back to where the little fire 
still burned cheerily. 

It was easier work, now that a passage had been forced 
through the tangled undergrowth, and Karl knew all this 
would speedily be set to rights when the old ranger got 
down to business, for he was a hustler at such things, and 
would never put up with untidy surroundings. 

For the last time the tent was raised and arrangements 
made for passing the night. 

Old Sile seemed to be thoroughly aroused by this re- 
visit to old scenes, and as he calmly puffed away, 
crouched there before the cheery blaze, he related ex- 
periences that very naturally thrilled the tw'o lads, since 
they were now in the vicinity where these occurrences 
had taken place, and in a fair way to meeting with just 
such adventures before the breaking up of winter came. 

Cuthbert’s ears were on the alert all the time. Those 
strange sounds from the dense pine forests interested him 
intensely. Later on the silence of death would come 
upon this region, when the grip of the ice king had 
sealed the creek, and two feet or more of snow covered 
the face of the earth, but while the denizens of the woods 
kept up their nightly serenade, it was bound to be sweet 
music in bis ears. 

The last sound he remembered hearing ere sinking into 
sleep, was the merry gurgle of the stream as it flowed 
past the submerged sterns of the dugouts. 

Then oblivion. 

Probably Cuthbert never slept more soundly in all his 
life, for as he had declared, he was “clean tuckered out” 
by the hard labor of the day. This bucking against a 
strong current hour after hour is no child’s play, and the 
sturdiest logger on Michigan rivers grows weary of it in 
■ time. 


The Lone Dugout. 17 

Nevertheless, Cuthbert was wide awake in a twinkling 
when the discharge of a rifle boomed upon the night air. 

Starting up to a sitting posture he discovered that it 
was Old Sile this time who had taken toll of the woods 
folk. 

Something was stretched out on the ground just under 
the limb where they had taken the pains to hang such of 
their stores as might be apt to tempt the appetite of a 
hungry night prowler. 

The old veteran was chuckling quietly to himself, as 
though vastly amused. 

Karl had already crawled out of his snug blanket, in- 
tent upon discovering the nature of the bold intruder who 
had paid so dearly for his rashness. 

“It’s a wolf, and the biggest of his kind,” he announced 
presently. 

After that Cuthbert could not have been coaxed to re- 
main in his blanket, for ever since the time when those 
snapping wolves so nearly ended his young career he 
had experienced the most bitter feelings toward the whole 
class, and would go miles out of his way to knock over 
one of the sneaking “varmints,” as Old Sile called them 
collectively. 

“Great Scott! what a whopper,” he exclaimed, as his 
eyes beheld the proportions of the great gaunt creatures 
and noted the cruel white fangs which the drawn back 
lips exposed. 

Secretly Cuthbert was wishing it had been through^his 
instrumentality the monster had come to his doom ; but 
there was satisfaction in the reflection that where one of 
his breed was so readily found there must be plenty more, 
of the same stock. 

Could Cuthbert have seen into the future a little way, 
he might not have experienced so great a yearning for 


i8 The Lone Dugout. 

such a meeting, since he was destined to have his fill of 
adventures with lupine foes ere long. 

“A genuine gray, mountain wolf, the boldest, fiercest 
and! gamest in the Northwest,” announced Old Sile, 
turning the gaunt beast over so that he might discover 
whether his lead had gone exactly where he intended it 
should, and the grim smile that illuminated his homely 
but genial face announced that he was perfectly satisfied. 

The conditions seemed to promise much sport, and even 
the old ranger declared the country better stocked with 
game than he had ever known it to be, all of which gave 
Cuthbert a feeling of secret ecstasy. 

Whether the fate of this bold pirate served as a dread*- 
ful warning to his predatory comrades, or whether they 
lacked his dash, could not be told, but at least they kept 
aloof during the remainder of the night, though their 
long-drawn, mournful howls occasionally smote the 
silence that had fallen upon the vicinity. 

When Cuthbert awoke in the morning the scent of 
coffee was in the air, the fire snapped and blazed cheerily, 
and Old Sile was engaged in measuring the distance be- 
tween the ground and the branch where he had hung the 
meat that had tempted mister wolf to his destiny. 

“Ye see,” the veteran explained, “it was him a jumpin’ 
up and failin’ back that woke me. Once he fastened his 
teeth into the haunch o’ venison, but broke loose. That 
ere was a jump to be proud of. Jest look at it, my boy. 
And see hyar, I declar to Moses, if thar ain’t the marks 
o’ teeth on that rope I used to haul the things up by, jest 
as if the ornery critter knowed they’d tumble if he gnawed 
that through. Sometimes I’ve a notion them pesky 
wolves has got a streak o’ the Old Nick in ’em. Least- 
wise they seem more’n half human.” 

And the more the Virginia lad saw of the mountain 


The Lone Dugout. 19 

wolf the greater became his respect for the gray free- 
booter’s sagacity. 

Breakfast was soon dispatched, and never had the 
coffee seemed more aromatic or the venison steak more 
tender than on this, the first morning of their arrival in 
the genuine heart of the wilderness. All . nature was 
crisp and bright around them, and Cuthbert seemed to 
experience an exhilaration that almost tempted him to 
shout aloud, just as if he were a schoolboy, and the long- 
yearned-for last day before vacation had arrived. 


CHAPTER 11. 


PARADISE CAMP. 

Both boys were eager to begin the work of transferring 
their goods to the domicile that was to shelter them dur- 
ing their winter campaign. 

All of them loaded up and made a carry to the dugout, 
where Sile started in to have things cleaned up by the 
time his companions had “toted” the last of the traps — 
blankets, provisions, culinary utensils and other odds and 
ends — over the trail between creek and cabin. 

They worked like young Trojans, knowing certain 
things must be done before their old guide would consent 
to set a trap or open up any of the secrets connected with 
the wilderness. 

By noon a tremendous transformation had been ef- 
fected in the neighborhood of the dugout, and the in- 
terior really presented an appearance of, solid comfort. 

Old Sile had built another bunk for himself, while the 
boys arranged the stores and in many ways gave a home- 
like air to the place. 

Indeed, they found so many things to do that dinner 
was postponed until night, a hasty “snack” at noon allay- 
ing the pangs of hunger without wasting precious time. 

Cuthbert yearned to take a little stroll around, to dis- 
cover what the immediate neighborhood was like, and 
Karl could read his comrade like a book, so in the gener- 
osity of his heart he started the other out to pick up some 
game for supper, while he and Sile cut a heap of firewood 
and continued the job of arranging things for their 
united comfort. 

Karl was somewhat different from most boys of his 


21 


Paradise Camp. 

age, and had an old bachelor’s ideas of looking to the 
eternal fitness of things, with a place for every article. 
On the other hand, Cuthbert had a happy faculty for 
tossing things pell-mell, and then depending upon his 
chum to assist in disentangling the snarl when an oc- 
casion arose. 

So, being opposites in many regards, they got along 
splendidly together. 

When young Lee started out he meant to go only a 
short distance and make a circuit around the camp. 
Full well he knew the danger of losing his way, since he 
had not as yet secured his bearings, and having been 
through one such experience, Cuthbert did not hanker 
after repeating it so early in the season. 

The wintry breath could already be felt in the bracing 
air ; indeed, a little fringe of ice along the border of the 
creek at sunrise had given plain warning that the season 
was about to change, and at any time they might look 
for the first snowfall. 

But at this hour of the day it was simply grand in the 
primeval forest, and Cuthbert felt as happy as a lord 
while he strolled along^ his eyes ever on the alert for signs 
of game. 

This was a wonderful change from the life he had been 
leading a year or so back, scouring the plains on horse- 
back, “milling” cattle, watching saddle horses as a “night 
wrangler,” branding youngsters at the grand “roundup” 
and experiencing all the wild distraction that marks the 
career of a cattleman. 

Here was solitude, here the grand woods reared their 
lofty crests far above his head, and the whispering pines 
told the mysterious secrets of centuries. 

And game ? That was a red fox slinking down yonder 
ravine; here a wolf dashed pell-mell through the scanty 
undergrowth, as an unintentional sneeze on the boy’s part 


22 


Paradise Camp. 

gave him a sudden scare, and several times Cuthbert had 
fleeting glimpses of deer that had been disturbed', perhaps 
by the clumsiness of his approach. 

He knew he was faulty as a still hunter, and needed 
the lessons Old Sile so cheerfully promised to give. He 
knew his boots were not at all equal to deerskin moc- 
casins when it came to sneaking up on game ; but Cuth- 
bert had seen these things done when a prisoner among 
the tepees of the Sioux, and believed he could acquire the 
hunter’s tread with but little instruction. 

And yet be was far removed from being a greenhorn in 
the broad sense of the word, having earned the full 
fledged title of cowboy through working up every round 
of the ladder. 

Thus sweeping around the camp he struck the stream 
again, half a mile above — at least, he took it for granted 
it was the same old creek they had paddled and poled up 
for some two whole days and more. 

A small flock of late-staying ducks, apparently mal- 
lards, sported upon the water and Cuthbert wished he had 
the scatter gun along so that he might have sent con- 
fusion into their midst^ and secured a trio for supper. 

As it was he saw them fly away with the keen chagrin 
your true sportsman experiences when his hand is stayed 
by circumstances beyond his control. 

Better luck another day. They went down the creek 
and might yet be found near the camp. Deer and elk 
they expected to secure all through the cold spell, but 
the time for the webfoots bad almost expired, and conse- 
quently this eagerness to secure the last of their kind was 
only natural. 

While scouting around Cuthbert discovered a place 
where the creek was narrow, and a very convenient 
swinging wild grape vine offered a splendid chance to 
cross. 


Paradise Camp, 25 

Sling-ing his rifle to his back by means of the coii'- 
venient strap, he seized hold of the vine, tested it thor- 
oughly, made a little run, jumped into the air and landed 
on the other bank before one could say Jack Robinson. 

It was a snap, and he meant to remember the exact 
location of this remarkable swinging bridge for future 
use. Karl must also see and experience the pleasure of a 
flying passage — Karl, who was ever in his mind; Karl, 
the dearest, sturdiest, most devoted chum on earth. The 
spirit of true comradeship did not die out when David 
and Jonathan or Damon and Pythias ceased to exist, for 
in this prosaic latter age of ours men and boys may be 
found intensely devoted to each other, and ready to make 
even such mutual sacrifices as those ancient worthies. 

On the other side of the stream the woods seemed to 
be even heavier than any he had as yet come across. 

Cuthbert felt charmed with it all. 

Why, there was a spirit of sport in the very atmosphere 
with which he was surrounded. A rustling here and 
there amid the dead leaves told that the gentle little woods- 
folk were keenly alive to this foreign presence in their 
midst, and many curious eyes doubtless spied upon him 
from tangled coverts. 

He tingled with pleasurable anticipations of the royal 
sport awaiting them during the period of their isolation 
in this lonely region. 

Although Cuthbert had not as yet paid any particular 
attention to the fact, he was now favored by what little 
breeze the afternoon afforded, since it met him full in 
the face. 

Suddenly he made a discovery that caused him to 
stand as still as a rock. Some animal was feeding in a 
small glade just ahead, and had thrown up its head. 

Well, it was a deer, sure enough, and Cuthbert had 
hunted the light-footed creatures sufficiently to know that 


24 


Paradise Camp. 

if he remained perfectly motionless, there was at least a 
fair chance of the other taking him' for a stump, and con- 
tinuing its feed. 

At any rate, he was determined to hazard a flying shot 
if the deer bounded away, as he should be capable of do- 
ing some execution with so trusty a rifle. 

Then the deer went to feeding again, and Cuthbert^s 
heart ceased to flutter, though it soon pounded between 
his ribs with such keen excitement as your true hunter 
necessarily feels when the noble quarry is in sight. 

He slowly advanced, keeping his eye on the short tail 
of the deer. 

A dozen steps — then Cuthbert paused. 

This was surely near enough. It was a pot shot after 
all. They needed the venison, otherwise the chivalrous 
lad, with his Southern instinct of fair play toward such 
game, would have been sorely tempted to shout aloud and 
take his chances at a flying target. 

At any rate, his nerves did not play him false, for when 
he drew his gun to the horizontal it never quivered in 
the least. 

With the sudden sharp report the deer started to run, 
but made only a few leaps when it came crashing to the 
ground, and in another minute Cuthbert had his foot 
proudly upon his game. 

He waved his hat in the air and gave one eager shout 
of exultation, which doubtless alarmed the smaller deni- 
zens of the great pine wood even more than the report of 
the gun had done. 

Being a sensible lad, Cuthbert paid immediate atten- 
tion to bleeding his game. 

Besides, this was not by any means his first deer. 

The quarry was too heavy to carry home, as he had 
done on several occasions with an antelope on the plains. 


Paradise Camp. 25 

So he set to work removing the skin, and securing the 
choice portions. 

It was a long and tedious job, for the young hunter 
had not as yet graduated in this particular branch of his 
calling. 

At length, however,, he had bound what meat he wanted 
inside the skin, and with a stout cord secured the whole 
to the limb of a tree. 

Remembering the experience of the previous night, and 
with a healthy respect for the gymnastic abilities of these 
gray freebooters of the mountains, he was careful to place 
his prize at such an elevation that it would be secure from 
the most agile wolf on earth. 

By this time the short afternoon had begun to wear to 
a close, and evening was at hand. In the heavy timber 
the shadows fell early, and Cuthbert knew it would in all 
probability be pitch dark ere he arrived in the vicinity 
of the camp. 

He was wise enough to blaze the trees from the scene 
of his successful still hunt to the edge of the creek near 
at hand, and at this point he tied his handkerchief to a 
branch where it could be plainly seen by any one ascend- 
ing the stream. 

Then he pushed sturdily on. 

At times he was forced by stress of circumstances and 
the lay of the land to bear away from the creek more or 
less, but always kept track of its gurgling, so that he 
might take advantage of the first favorable opportunity 
to reach the bank again. 

Soon the shadows grew heavier, gloom fell upon the 
forest, and night had come. 

Cuthbert was cheered, however, by a glow far ahead 
among the trees, which undoubtedly came from a fire his 
comrades had built upon the water’s edge according to a 
prearranged plan. Old Sile had warned them that if 


26 


Paradise Camp. 

overtaken by darkness while in the woods the best thing 
to do was to find the stream and follow its course. 

In due time Cuthbert reached a point opposite the 
camp, where he found Karl waiting with one of the boats, 
having been apprised of the hunter’s coming by welcome 
shouts. 

And when he saw" that the other carried a couple of 
generous venison steaks, ample for their present needs, he 
knew the saunter of young Lee had not gone unrewarded. 

The fire on the shore was quickly extinguished, as it 
had served its purpose, and they followed the trail to the 
dugout. 

Cuthbert was delighted. 

So many radical changes had taken place since his de- 
parture, and the interior looked so thoroughly like what 
he had pictured a true hunter’s camp to be that the Vir- 
ginian forgot his fatigue and loudly expressed his satis- 
faction. 

He threw himself onto his bunk and experienced the 
most agreeable relief. 

'Tt’s good to be here, I tell you,” he said, at whicb 
Karl, busied over the fire, smiled and nodded in his own 
quiet way, proving that he quite appreciated his friend’s 
enthusiasm. 

And when they discussed the venison, which was 
cooked to a queen’s taste. Old Sile asked questions con- 
cerning the route taken, what the youngster had seen, 
and his impressions with regard to the game in the woods. 

“So the ole swingin’ grapevine is thar still, eh? That 
saved me a neat trick once and I’ve allers felt kindly to- 
ward it,” he mused, lifting up a red ember for his pipe. 

“Tell us what,” demanded Cuthbert, who, somehow, 
had conceived that the vine was formerly used consid- 
erably. 

Old Sile was not a champion yarn spinner ; he got down 


Paradise Camp. 27 

to facts too speedily for that ; but it seldom required coax- 
ing to induce him to relate any experience from^ his gen- 
erous fund. 

So he immediately fired away. 

“It happened when Bob and me fust kim to this kentry. 
For once I was caught in summat o’ a pickle. We didn't 
have no repeating g^ms in them days, ye know, and a 
feller had to make pretty sartin o’ his game with the 
fust shot. 

“I run acrost a big elk and he went down with a crash 
when I fired. Like a green tiom, I ran forward to bleed 
him, and it jest sarved me right to have that critter jump 
up and charge me.” 

Old Sile lay back and laughed at the recollection of the 
amusing as well as exciting scene, though it must have 
been anything but ludicrous to him at the time. 

“Well, thar we dodged back and forward, like a couple 
o’ kids playing tag, but he guv me a hot chase, and sev- 
eral times I felt the rip o’ his horns as he jest missed me 
when I dodged behind a tree. 

“Thar was blood in that ole elk’s eye, and I knowed he 
was bound to git me if he could. 

“Jest about that time, as luck would have it, I caught 
sight o’ that grapevine hanging over the creek, which 
was rather high and deep for the season, and an ijee 
came into my head which I lost no time in carryin’ out. 

“Watchin’ my chance, I made a dash for it, with the 
bloomin’ critter hot on my heels. 

“If I’d missed my jump I’d a gone clean over my eyes 
in the drink, but having drapped my gun, I was able to 
snatch the vine and hold on with a death grip. 

“The animile went flounderin’ in, and before he could 
get a chance at me I had climbed up the vine into the 
tree. 

“A wounded elk is about the toughest nut I ever 


28 


Paradise Camp. 

tackled, and I soon knowed 'he meant to keep me a pris- 
oner thar, so I set to work to sarcumvent the critter. 

“That was easy enough done, and I’ll enter summat into 
particulars in case either o’ ye ever get cotched up a tree 
with an angry animile below. 

‘T allers make it a practice to carry a hank o’ cord in 
my pocket, and a piece o’ stout wire that comes in handy 
for many different purposes. 

“On this occasion I bent it in the shape o’ a hook, tied 
it to the cord, and swingin’ into the next tree, squirrel 
fashion, began a fishin’ for my ole gun. 

“That tuk me quite a time, as it was a hard job to lay 
holt o’ the trigger guard ; but after a while I began to git 
more expert like, ye know, and finally she came. 

“In course it was all night wid Mr. Elk arter that, but 
he was a game chap, I tell ’ee, and thar be his horns over 
the fireplace.” 

The boys had ere now remarked upon the noble di- 
mensions of those sturdy antlers, and since the story of 
their capture had proved so entertaining, they would re- 
gard them with redoubled interest. 

Karl proposed that he and the old ranger go up after 
the venison — there was always a chance that it might be 
torn by wildcats, quick to be attracted by the scent of 
fresJh meat, or perhaps tumbled down to hungry wolves 
and other animals below. 

Besides, they felt as though a little exercise on the 
water would be enjoyable after their work around the 
camp. 

Accordingly they left Cuthbert on duty and sallied 
forth, armed with guns and torches, the latter for use in 
following the blazed trail. 

Karl was stationed in the bow, at the wish of his com- 
panion, with instructions to look out for any game while 


Paradise Camp. 29 

on the way, and Old Sile used the paddle as to the man- 
ner bom. 

When one has been a guide in the Maine woods as a 
young man, lessons are learned that can never be for- 
gotten. Such had been the experience of this remarkable 
ranger, and accounted for his adept way with the single 
blade. 

It was a long and arduous voyage, bucking against a 
goodly current, and the clumsy dugout could bear no 
comparison with a bark canoe. 

Karl kept constantly on the alert. 

Many times he heard rustling in the bushes on either 
side of the stream, but caught no glimpse of game. 

The torch they had ignited was suspended where its 
light would not dazzle the eyes of the intended marksman. 

Its light, reflected upon the water and the sombre 
forest, lighted up the immediate scene with a weird and 
ghostly effect. 

Karl, who always secretly admired an artistic dash of 
color, thought the voyage was well worth taking, even 
though they might fail to bag more game. 

With him the booty was not everything when the senses 
were gratified. 

So your true sportsman enjoys a day in the woods, 
communing with nature, even though he may not carry 
a gun. 

Old Sile, though, who was more apt to look upon the 
commercial side of everything, expressed some disap- 
pointment because of their failure to make a strike. 

He laid it to the fact that the clumsy old batteau, forced 
against the stream, made considerable racket that alarmed 
the suspicious animals before they came within reach. 

More than once they heard a whistle among the bushes, 
followed by the stamp of retreating hoofs among the 
d^^ad leaves — and Old Sile at least had the satisfaction of 


30 


Paradise Camp. 

knowing that game abounded in this paradise for sports- 
men among the Big Horn hills. 

At length Karl cried out that he had discovered the 
white signal on the bush, so their voyage was nearly 
ended. 

Once on land it was a simple matter to follow the 
blazed trail until they came to the spot where Cuthbert 
had made his center shot. 

And they were just in time, for a snarling animal re- 
treated before their light, while several cries from the 
darkness around told that the scent of blood had aroused 
quite a sensation among the cat tribe. 

Once or twice Karl half raised his gun as though 
sorely tempted to take a snap shot at that skulking, indis- 
tinct figure with the glowing yellow eyes ; but somehow 
he hesitated, lest the result might be to stir up a tempest. 

''Jest as well to let ’em go this time, lad,” remarked Old 
Sile, "sence they’re a pesky bad critter to only wound. 
When ye shoot a bobcat it’s best to put your bullet 
through head or heart, or else riddle the onery beast with 
a load o’ buckshot in a scatter gun.” 

And Old Sile did not speak from theory, but from a 
well-stocked exp-erience. 

They secured what they came after, and retreated again 
to the boat, leaving the remnants of the deer for the 
beasts of prey to snarl over. 

Doubtless that little glade would present quite an ani- 
mated scene presently, when wolf and wildcat, perhaps 
even a gray-coated panther, put in their rival claims for 
a share in the booty. 

Karl guided the boat down stream, but their luck was 
no better than when ascending, since the deer had evi- 
dently not yet returned. 

Thus closed the first day at Paradise Camp. 


Paradise Camp. 31 

It had, after all, been quite eventful, and must be 
marked down with a white stone in memory’s tablets. 

On the morrow Old Sile meant to conceal the boats and 
remove some of the traces of their presence in the lo- 
cality, for at this time the Sioux were more or less hostile, 
and would be apt to make trouble if by accident any 
hunting party chanced in this locality and discovered their 
hiding-place. 

Constant vigilance was apt to be of more value than 
anything else. 

And no doubt Old Sile would not have led his two 
youngsters into the region only that he deemed it the next 
thing to being absolutely safe. 

When things were finally arranged to the satisfaction 
of the particular old ranger, they would be ready to start 
out upon the circuit of duties which had already in a 
measure been mapped for them^ 

Both lads were eager to begin. 

They had been coached time and again by their sa- 
gacious old mentor, and in theory already knew just 
wihat cautious routine must be invariably followed in 
setting beaver traps, so that the suspicipns of the easily 
alarmed colony might not be aroused. 

Neither of the boys had as yet ever seen a beaver vil- 
lage, or the wonderful little animals at work construct- 
ing a dam, so they hoped Sile would soon give them a 
chance to take a peep at the residents of the flooded ter- 
ritory of Which he had so often spoken. 

Indeed, they anticipated many wonderful experiences 
while they remained at Paradise Camp, differing entirely 
from their life on horseback on the cattle ranch — experi- 
ences that would linger long in memory, whether they 
were of a pleasant character or partook of the dangerous 
element that necessarily enters into the welfare of a 
pioneer in the vast wilderness. 


CHAPTER III. 


THE BEAR DEN IN THE COULIE. 

Busy days followed. 

Old Sile was a good general, and took great pleasure in 
laying out a campaign while they sat around the evening 
meal, arranging details in the same satisfactory manner 
he had shown when assuming management of the grand 
roundup at Sunset Ranche. 

Sometimes a change in the weather would necessitate 
a postponement of the arrangement, but there was always 
plenty to do inside during a stormy day. 

Cuthbert had a taste for mounting specimens, and his 
work was so neatly done that birds and animals promised 
to assume very lifelike proportions when completed. 

Of course for want of space he finished very few, leav- 
ing the balance in a condition to mount later, when he 
once more found himself on Virginia's red soil. 

Old Sile had quite a desperate encounter one night in 
the dark with a gaunt wolf. Getting up thirsty, he 
groped his way in the direction of the water bucket, 
tripped over some object and fell full upon a hairy beast, 
which he carried down in his tumble. 

There was a shout and some exceedingly lively thresh- 
ing about on the floor. 

Karl was up like a flash and struck a match, when a 
ludicrous sight presented itself — Old Sile, on his back on 
the floor, energetically embracing a half mounted speci- 
men of a lupus vulgaris which Cuthbert had been work- 
ing on in the evening, and carelessly left in the middle of 
the room. 

The veteran made out that it was all a great joke, but 


The Bear Den in the Coulie. 


33 

Karl secretly cherished the opinion that in his sleepy con- 
dition Sile had really imagined himself assailed by some 
wild beast. There had been too genuine a strain of alarm 
in that shout. 

However, after that adventure it was noticed that Old 
Sile always glanced around to see that the decks were 
quite clear for action ere he “doused the glim'' for the 
night. 

It certainly would be apt to give any one something of 
a shock to tumble over a gaunt animal in the dark. 

The boys often laughed about the affair in secret, and 
occasionally gave their old friend a sly rub when the op- 
portunity arose, causing Sile to chuckle in his peculiar 
way, while a gleam of humor twinkled in his little gray 
eyes. 

Some people are so happily constituted that they can 
even enjoy a joke at their own expense. 

The boys soon found a chance to visit the beaver 
colony. 

Old Sile, of course, showed them the way, and carried a 
few traps in order to commence operations before winter 
came in earnest. 

He explained as he went, just what regulations must be 
employed in order to win success. Perhaps some of the 
conditions which he insisted upon may have seemed 
wholly unnecessary to the boys, but in time they would 
learn what cunning creatures beaver are and how quick 
to take alarm. 

As they drew near the pond they heard a peculiar noise, 
as though some one were slapping the surface of the 
water with a flat board. 

“They have heard us already — that’s the signal of the 
fellow on guard. I kinder had an idea that change o' 
wind 'd do it. But thar will be other chances to see the 
leetle critters at work. Come on, boys," said Old Sile. 


The Bear Den in the Coulie. 


34 

They no longer bothered with precautions, since the 
beaver would not be in sight. 

The dam interested them greatly. 

It was constructed in a scientific manner that would 
have done a civil engineer credit. 

All around trees had been gnawed off by the sharp 
teeth of the beaver, so that the place had the appearance 
of considerable devastation. 

The water thus backed up was just deep enougih to 
almost cover the various mounds or beaver houses, allow- 
ing air to enter the top apartment, with water below. 

When ice covered the surface they would be able to 
get the animals by stopping up the exit of their houses. 

For the present traps were to be used. 

Old Sile set a couple under the bank. 

Usually these are put in place from a boat, so as to 
leave no trace of human presence, but there were ways 
Old Sile knew whereby this might be effectually reme- 
died, and he wanted the boys to understand it all. 

Indeed, the old fellow took the keenest pleasure in re- 
viving his knowledge, and when things might have been 
done in a more modern way he would go to great trouble 
to show them just how they carried it out in the early 
days, when he had been a member of the famous Kit 
Carson trapper brigade. 

From' the beaver village they went to a dark, wild- 
looking gully, where Karl had discovered many bear 
trails, showing that there must be a den of some sort 
near by. 

This day had been set apart for a thorough explora- 
tion of the defile. 

It was too near home to let go any longer. 

Several mornings they had found bear tracks around 
the cabin, as though Bruin had got a scent of their pro- 


The Bear Den in the Coulie. 35 

visions and yearned to make a raid before laying up for 
the winter. 

The day was bright and cold. 

Somehow the snow still held off, though none of them 
regretted this fact, knowing they would be heartily tired 
of it ere spring came. 

In contrast the gully appeared most singularly dark 
and forbidding. 

“Jest an ideal place for a bar^s den, you’ll say,” de- 
clared the veteran, whose eye glowed with the eager light 
of anticipation. He was an old warhorse, and he sniffed 
the smoke of battle afar. 

Karl, philosopher and stoic, in spite of his youth, said 
nothing, but more impulsive Cuthbert trembled with 
eagerness. 

Slowly they moved up the cleft. 

In many places Old Sile pointed out the marks of bear 
claws in the scanty soil. 

“Thar’s a hull fambly o’ the rascals, I reckon, and the 
kingpin is a whopper, j edgin’ from his tracks. Now 
here’s a fine chance to git holt o’ some barskin rugs 
cheap, boys.” 

“It’s auction day,” said Karl, smiling. 

“And lead is the standard coin that fetches in the bar- 
gains,” laughed Cuthbert. 

Then their levity ceased, for it was a serious business 
upon which they had entered. 

The ravine grew more rugged and wild as they pro- 
ceeded, until the boys were forced to remark upon the 
conditions surrounding them. There were great masses 
of rocks, upon which gnarled trees and bushes clung in 
all manner of fantastic shapes, and at times progress was 
exceedingly difficult. 

But the bear tracks showed them how to get around 


)6 The Bear Den in the Coulie. 

these difficulties, and', besides, their guide had been here 
before. 

‘Thar’s the den,” said Old Sile. 

Between two imimense masses of rocks there yawned a 
black, forbidding aperture. 

Cuthbert whistled. 

Suppose the whole family of bears were in that gloomy 
hole, how were they to get at them ? 

He had known of an Indian who, single-handed, en- 
tered such a den, and succeeded in killing its ferocious 
occupant with only his knife as a weapon, but he bore 
many honorable scars on his face and body as memen- 
toes of that terrible encounter at close quarters. 

Cuthbert believed he could enjoy hunting quite as well 
as the next one, but he had no desire to beard a colony 
of wild bears in their den. 

At the same time, he knew Old Sile too well to believe 
that the veteran would risk life and limb when there was 
no necessity for it. 

Such follies he was content to allow others to monopo- 
lize — hot-blooded youngsters with a name to make, or 
ambitions Indians, eager to win renown as the Man Who 
Killed a Bear in His Den. 

The sagacious ranger knew a trick or two whereby the 
mountain could be induced to come to Mahomet. 

First of all, he surveyed the ground, and selected a 
couple of trees that stood not far from; the yawning 
mouth of the bear den. 

One of these he assigned to Karl, while the other Cuth- 
bert could claim’. 

“Now git some wood and make a pile yonder by the 
open door,” said the leader. 

“Oh, it’s smoke ’em out, you mean,” exclaimed Cuth- 
bert, quickly. 

“Jest so. The neatest and quickest way of all. An’, if 


The Bear Den in the Coulie. 37 

ye look sharp, ye kin see signs o’ a fire on the rocks. 
This ain’t the fust time it’s been done here,” and Old 
Sile unconsciously rubbed his left armi, where, as the 
boys knew, he carried the marks of long-healed wounds. 
Possibly they had been received in this same wild gulch 
years ago. 

“Now,” said he, when a pile of brush had been shoved 
into the opening, “Pm goin’ to set her afire. You boys 
skedaddle to yer perches, an’ shoot straight, mind. P’raps 
it might be a serious time for me if ye failed to drap the 
varmint.” 

Of course their nerves tingled with excitement, but 
subduing this as far as possible, they clambered up their 
respective trees and settled themselves as comfortably 
as possible. 

“Ready ?” sang out the ranger. 

No sooner had they replied in the affirmative than he 
applied the match. 

They fully anticipated that he would beat a hasty re- 
treat when this had been done, and seek some safe lodg- 
ment in a tree. 

Apparently Old Sile was not entirely satisfied with the 
way the fire was working, for he continued to act the 
part of stoker, shoving an armful of brush into the open- 
ing and pushing it further along with a long pole. 

He wanted smoke rather than flame, but the draught 
was strong, and the blaze leaped up with sudden energy. 

Then the unexpected happened. 

There was a sudden, terrific roar, the burning brush 
flew in every direction, and out rushed a tremendous 
bear, showing every symptom of furious rage. 

Old Sile had evidently not been expecting such speedy 
results. 

Whether the bear actually knocked him over, or the 


>8 The Bear Den in the Coulie. 

long pole tripped him up, neither of the boys was in a 
position to decide. 

They saw him wallowing on the ground, and> at the 
same instant were electrified to discover two more bears 
floundering through the debris of the fire. 

Evidently this was more than had been bargained for, 
a wholesale delivery, in fact. 

Old Sile was on his feet in a twinkling, being a hard 
man to keep down. 

Moreover, he now clutched his gun, in place of the 
stoking-pole. 

The big bear had sighted him, and was already floun- 
dering in his direction. 

His only chance was to dodge and run, which he did 
instantly. 

Bruin followed in hot haste. 

The scene might have been ludicrous only for its tragic 
atmosphere, for Old Sile was undoubtedly more or less 
alarmed lest he fall into the clutches of his arch enemy. 

A little affection may be a good thing, but the hug of 
a big bear is apt to be warmer than the average man de- 
sires. 

As he scoured the rough ground, trying to look over 
his shoulder at the monster pursuer, and at the same time 
watch where he was going. Old Sile was shouting at the 
top of his lungs : 

“Shoot him! Lay him out! Why don’t ye cut loose, 
boys? Now’s yer chance! Plumb center, d’ye mind?” 

It was not so easy a thing to accomplish such a result. 
In the first place, the sudden appearance of bear in such 
quantities had very naturally astonished and bewildered 
the boys, for the gulch seemed full of wildly-running, 
long-haired varmints. 

To aggravate matters still more, Old Sile while on the 
jump toward them was almost constantly between the 


The Bear Den in the Coulie. 39 

bear and their guns, so that should they attempt to cut 
loose there was more or less of a chance that he might 
receive what compliments they intended for Bruin. 

The opportunity was getting brighter as the trapper 
drew closer to where they had perched, though, of 
course, he could not know the main cause of their delay, 
and was rapidly growing desperate enough to turn and 
face his determined pursuer. 

Karl got in the first shot. 

The big brute staggered and came to a stop, but it usu- 
ally takes more than one piece of lead to wind up the 
career of a full-grown grizzly, or Mountain Charley, as 
the miners call them. So, recovering, he once more 
started on the jump after the trapper. 

This time it was Cuthbert who drew a bead on the 
shaggy brute and sent in his compliments. 

Apparently his shot counted, for the beast rolled over 
among the rocks, though immediately on his feet again, 
such is the tenacity of life and grim purpose character- 
istic of the terrible grizzly. 

Old Sile’s turn had come. 

Though short of breath and panting, he whirled 
around in his tracks and covered his once more advancing 
enemy. 

The bear’s former rush was now hardly more than a 
stumble, inspired by hatred, but, all the same, he was 
still a dangerous enemy, w^hom no sane man would wish 
to tackle. 

It seemed as though the three guns all spoke at once, 
so closely were the reports blended. 

This time, when Briiin went down, he failed to get 
up again, and Old Sile was at liberty to draw a good 
long breath. 

‘‘Wall, I declar to Moses, that was a hot stampede. 


The Bear Den in the Coulie. 


40 

an’ no mistake. Thought he had a cinch, didn’t he, 
boys ? But vvhar be the other chaps as came out ?” 

No one had noticed in the excitement of the moment 
that the other bears had made off up the gully. 

Karl and Cuthbert jumped down beside Sile, who led 
the way on the run, over rocks and scrub and numerous 
obstacles, eager to get a glimpse of the fleeing animals. 

They were successful in overhauling one of the rascals, 
and, finding himself discovered. Bruin turned at bay, 
rushing at them with open jaws and all the evidences of 
rage. 

This time Old Sile stood firm. 

'‘Take time, boys. Let him get purty close, and plant 
the lead whar it counts,” was his steady admonition. 

It gave them the required nerve, and, consequently, 
they did themselves credit. 

Had they failed, the old man stood ready to pot the 
bear before he could get close enough to do mischief. 
But long experience with wild steers had given the boys 
at least a fair command over their impulses, and, conse- 
quently, when they fired it was with fatal effect. 

Victory had perched upon their banner. 

Two bears in one morning was surely glory enough to 
satisfy any heart. 

They walked back to look at the big one. 

Karl and his chum were surprised to find it was a fe- 
male, though Old Sile had had reason to suspect this fact 
from the ferocity shown. 

"Here’s somethin’ quite out o’ the ordinary run,” he 
said, presently; "this bar’s got cubs in the cave yonder. 
Don’t know as I ever met with such a case at this late 
time o’ year, when usually they’re goin’ into winter quar- 
ters.” 

The boys showed deep interest at once. 


The Bear Den in the Coulie. 41 

*^Gee whiz ! Wonder if we can’t get ’em, and have ’em 
for pets,” said Cuthbert, eagerly. 

Karl nodded. 

'‘Always thought Fd like to have a couple of bear 
cubs. It’s such fun watching them play,” he remarked. 

“All right, fellers. I’ll see if I can’t accommodate ye,” 
laughed Sile. 

So he crawled straight into the hole. 

Cuthbert thought it was very reckless of the veteran, 
since how was he to know but what even a fourth bear 
might be in hiding there, ready to rush upon an intruder. 

When he looked at the dead monster, and contemplated 
those terribly-long claws, he shuddered at the bare 
thought of coming to close quarters with such an an- 
tagonist. 

The trapper knew what he was doing, however, and 
made sure to carry his rifle along, as well as a rope, the 
other end of w'hich Karl had in his possession. 

The two boys waited. 

Listening, they could hear a scratching noise as Old 
Sile made his way along the passage. Once he sneezed, 
under the influence of the pungent smoke that still filled 
the interior. 

Then came the sound of a scuffle that kept their inter- 
est keyed up to the top notch and their fingers on the 
triggers of their guns, for the sudden advent of the furi- 
ous old grizzly, flinging the burning brands to right and 
left, had made a tremendous impression on their minds, 
and they seemed to have a half fear lest this paralyzing 
scene might be duplicated. 

What was that Old Sile was roaring? Did he call for 
help, and must they, too, crawl straight into the black 
aperture ? 

“Pull away !” came distinctly from within. 


42 The Bear Den in the Coulie. 

Ah ! that was entirely different. It meant that Sile had 
succeeded. 

Karl began to take in rope, but whatever was at the 
other end, it held back with such pertinacity that Cuth- 
bert had also to lay hold in order to “snake’’ the little 
brute along. 

“We’ll need a snubbing-post yet,” laughed Karl, as they 
found it necessary to exert their full strength in order to 
drag the rebellious captive toward the light of day. 

At length he appeared in view, a little bundle of hairy 
pugnacity, and ere they could secure him, several 
scratches had been received. 

“Oho !” cried Cuthbert, sucking at his hand, where the 
marks of four claws showed. “It’s very evident you’ll 
have to be taught manners, I see, and have your nails 
clipped in the bargain.” * 

“He’s a regular jim-dandy,” declared the other. 

Karl volunteered to go in with the rope. In truth, he 
wanted to see what the cleft in the wall looked like. 

So he took a burning fagot and crawled along, with 
Cuthbert at his heels, the cub having been made secure, 
so that it might not decamp during their absence. 

Presently they came into the cave proper, where Old 
Sile was found', with the other cub growling at him. 

A split in the rock overhead allowed some measure of 
light to enter, but, after all, Karl’s torch proved well 
adapted to bringing out those corners which they might 
never have examined without its assistance. 

Taken in all, it was not such a place as one would care 
to remain in longer than was absolutely necessary. The 
wild animal odor was peculiarly strong, and reminded 
Cuthbert of the menagerie in Central Park, New York. 

Bones were scattered in profusion about the place, prov- 
ing that Madam Bruin had been, at least, a good pro- 


The Bear Den in the Coulie. 43 

vider for her interesting family, although the older brood 
had doubtless arrived at a self-supporting age. 

The remaining cub was surrounded and tumbled over 
in a jiffy. He made quite a stiff fight, but numbers pre- 
vailed, and in the end he was hobbled in such a way as 
to be helpless, when he was yanked out of the cavern in 
short order. 

As the hunt had been so brilliant a success, they deter- 
mined to attend to what had been secured and go no fur- 
ther up the coulie. 

The cubs were carried home, and Cuthbert spent the 
remainder of the day building quarters for them in a 
hole close by their own dugout. 

Karl assisted their captain in removing the skins of the 
two dead grizzlies, which, when properly cured, would 
be glorious trophies of the day’s adventure. 

For a long time to come the boys would find much 
cause for secret merriment in their recollection of the 
ludicrous figure Old Sile cut as he scrambled over the 
ground, with Madam Eph in hot pursuit, all the time the 
hunted 'hunter bellowing lustily for them to blaze away 
before he fell into the toils. 

Their tardiness in coming to the rescue was a conun- 
drum. to the veteran until Karl explained and showed 
how he had been in line most of the time, preventing 
their firing. 

While they worked over the big bear, Karl could hear 
the old man chuckling to himself quite frequently, and 
he imagined Sile was amused at the remembrance of what 
consternation had accompanied the sudden rush of the 
enraged brute, and how he himself had gone to the floor 
so neatly. 

When he examined the terrible claws which went with 
the hide, Karl was more than ever determined never to 


The Bear Den in the Coulie. 


44 

come into close quarters with such a beast, if it could in 
any way be avoided. 

When the day came to an end Cuthbert had fitted a 
strong door to the little den, and also connected it with 
the cave at the rear of their own dugout. 

The others surveyed his work and united in declaring 
it a fine job. 

Old Sile showed them how to feed the cubs. 

Already they were growing to some extent accus- 
tomed to the presence of human beings, and their growls 
were less fierce. 

The veteran had brought up cubs before now, and 
knew all about their habits. 

After supper they tied one of the fat little bundles of 
claws and pugnacity in such a way as to prevent his do- 
ing damage, and then Sile cut his nails, blunting them 
effectually. 

When released he huddled in a corner, sucking his 
paws, while the second underwent similar treatment, be- 
ing rendered fairly harmless without much injury. 

In time, no doubt, they would help to pass away many 
a dull evening with their antics. 

Cuthbert was given the naming of them, and after due 
deliberations he said they should be known among men 
as Rags and Tatters. 


CHAPTER IV. 


HOW KARL GOT HIS ELK. 

The Paradise Camp outfit had now settled down to 
business. 

Each and every day had its duties, as well as pleas- 
ures. 

The round of the traps had to be made as regularly as 
clockwork. 

This was something Old Sile was very conscientious 
about, for he would not torture an animal any longer than 
was absolutely necessary. 

Besides, it sometimes happened that, if left too long, a 
fox or other captive would gnaw itself free by leaving 
the imprisoned foot in the trap. 

Then there were various side hunts to be taken. Old 
Sile had many places which he wished them to see while 
the decent weather held out. 

It was really surprising how long winter kept away in 
this year. 

Perhaps it boded no good, and Old Sile predicted that 
it would certainly be all the more severe when it did de- 
scend Upon them, and that, therefore, they must make hay 
while the sun shone. 

It fell to Karl’s lot to meet with an adventure one day 
which he was not very apt to forget in a hurry. 

His turn had come to secure fresh meat, while the 
others looked after the routine of work. 

Karl started out bright and early. 

The day opened with a red sunrise, and Old Sile, 
weatherwise like most of his kind, did not like the looks 
of things. 


46 How Karl Got His Elk. 

He shook his head solemnly. 

“I declar to Moses I believe she’s a-comin’ to-day, 
boys — ^the norther we’ve been expectin’ so long. It’s in 
the air,” he said, firmly. 

Even Cuthbert could detect an unusual rawness in the 
atmosphere that reminded him of a bleak, wintry day 
when he had been ducking along the Maryland seashore. 

All of them were wise enough to provide themselves 
against a sudden cold snap, and at Old Sile’s advice Karl 
took along in his pocket a pair of woolen gloves and a 
worsted skating cap or toque, used by snowshoe clubs in 
Canada. 

With a boy’s freedom from care, no doubt he smiled 
at the idea of lugging such things through the wbods 
when his own exertions would keep him warm. 

But it would not be many hours ere he would loudly 
bless this “old womanly” caution of the ancient trapper, 
and call down benedictions on his hoary head. 

Karl had made up his mind that this was the day for a 
lordly elk. 

He had said nothing about it, perhaps fearing lest Old 
Sile might offer some objection to his going so far from 
camp when the weather looked unpropitious. 

The captain, a day or two previous, had reported seeing 
signs of elk in the region of Fallen Timbers, a spot where 
a furious cyclone had dipped down to the earth years 
before and leveled an acre of the forest, the trees having 
been torn and twisted in a curious fashion. 

Karl headed for this quarter. 

To reach it he must cover several miles of pretty rough 
territory. 

And this might only be a beginning, for, should he 
strike a fresh elk trail, it would very likely lead him deep 
into the wilderness. 

Tramping along toward his destination, Karl could not 


How Karl Got His Elk. 


47 

but notice how singularly quiet the wood folks were this 
morning. 

Beyond a glimpse of a skulking Reynard and the flap- 
ping of a great Northern owl, he saw no evidence of ani- 
mated life. 

In the upper branches of the tallest pines the wind 
soughed and moaned dismally, as though in warning. 

As the young Nimrod d'rew nearer the belt of fallen 
timber he became more and more on the alert for signs of 
noble quarry. 

In imagination he pictured his sensations when show- 
ing the horns of a gigantic elk to the admiring Cuthbert, 
and relating how he had still-hunted the king of the 
Northwestern forest. 

Long before his day such lofty desires as this had 
lured many a bold hunter into danger, perhaps to death. 

What Old Sile had told him concerning the hunting of 
elk had burned in his brain ever since, so that it had 
really become something of a mania with him to kill one 
of the lordly animals. 

Perhaps after this experience had become a thing of 
the past, Karl might find his ambition in this respect 
snuffed out. 

He searched the spot well. 

Old tracks there were in plenty, and Karhs life as a 
cowboy had long since made him more than an average 
trailer. He knew most of the signs whereby a hunter 
can tell all about the spoor of his quarry, how long ago 
the tracks were made, whether the animal was alarmed 
when passing, or moving at its natural gait, and such 
questions bearing upon the point at issue. 

Apparently the vicinity of the wrecked forest was a fa- 
vorite spot for elk, to judge from the number of tracks 
he ran across. 

Why they came here in particular he could not say; 


48 How Karl Got His Elk. 

perhaps the grass was more tender or sweeter than in 
Other places. He remembered hearing Old Sile make 
mention of a salt lick somewhere in this section, and 
deer of all kinds will travel many miles to satisfy their 
craving for salt. 

It was a little before noon that Karl suddenly ran upon 
fresh spoor. 

The sight electrified him more than he was willing to 
admit, for, having been educated upon the plains, Karl 
was an experienced hunter, and supposed he might be 
above any such greenhorn feeling as giving way to ex- 
citement. 

He munched at his lunch as he went along, not wish- 
ing to lose time. 

So an hour passed. 

The air was even keener and more penetrating than 
at daylight. 

Moreover, the last vestige of blue had vanished over- 
head, and where he could see the canopy through small 
openings, it presented only a dull-gray aspect, anything 
but reassuring. 

A few snowflakes drifted lazily down. 

Now, ordinarily, Karl was a level-headed young chap, 
far above the average, and, considering the conditions 
surrounding him, he should have given up his quest for 
the day and struck a bee line for camp. 

Alas! the fever of conquest was in his veins. 

The trail grew fresh, and from certain indications he 
was positive that the game could not be far ahead. 

At any moment now he expected to catch a glimpse of 
the big beast and have his chance. 

Besides, Karl actually thought he was moving in the 
direction of camp, when, truth to tell, it was almost in 
the opposite quarter, so that, although he did not even 


How Karl Got His Elk. 49 

dTeam of such a thing, he was already shaky in his bear- 
ings. 

Faster fell the fugitive snowflakes. 

Old Sile had been correct. A severe storm was im- 
minent, winter coming at last, with a grand hurraih and 
flourish of trumpets. 

What sound was that ahead? 

To the cowboy’s trained ear it was very like the fa- 
miliar snort of a horse. 

He fairly crept along, his nerves strained to the utmost, 
his eyes keenly on the alert for the first sign of his royal 
game. 

What mattered it to him in this supreme moment that 
the wind whistled more vigorously through the trees and 
the ground actually began to be whitened with the first 
snow of the season? 

His vigilance had its reward. 

Through the half-darkened forest he suddenly caught 
sight of a moving object. 

It was the elk. 

He looked an enormous size. Perhaps it was due to 
some peculiarity in the atmospheric conditions, or pos- 
sibly the boy’s eyes and imagination played him false. 

The animal presented a fair mark, though the falling 
snow was apt to get into the eyes of the hunter and de- 
ceive him more or less. 

At any rate, here was his chance, and he did not mean 
to let it slip. 

Down he went on one knee, and along the barrel of his 
Winchester he glanced until the sight covered the spot 
he aimed to strike. 

Then the trigger was pressed without the least par- 
ticle of flinching, and the report sounded. 

Karl sprang up with a shout, for he had seen the big 
elk go crashing to earth. 


How Karl Got His Elk. 


50 

He gave a second cowboy whoop, which was, however, 
suddenly cut short, for, to his amazement, the stricken 
beast gained its feet and made a headlong dash. 

Instead of turning away and seeking safety in flight, 
the elk made straight at him. 

Then he remembered all about this peculiarity in the 
forest monarch, remembering Old Sile’s warning and the 
story of how he had been so hotly pressed by one of the 
lordly tribe at the time the swinging grapevine served 
him such a good trick. 

The wounded beast recognized in the young hunter 
the cause of his sudden pain and downfall, and, furious 
with rage, charged directly for the spot where Karl stood. 
His triumphant shout and the swinging of his hat had 
betrayed him, and he must now nerve himself to take the 
consequence of his folly. 

Conditions differed with regard to his situation and 
that of Old Sile. 

The latter had exhausted his resources with that one 
shot, whereas Karl had half a dozen more in the maga- 
zine of his gun. 

There was not a second to lose. 

That old chap covered the ground with a nimbleness 
that was astonishing when one considered the fact of his 
being wounded more or less severely. 

So Karl pumped another cartridge into the chamber 
of his weapon. 

It was no easy thing to make a center shot now, with 
the target plunging head on toward him, and though he 
fired point blank, Karl was afraid he had missed. 

At least, his lead did not cause the elk to slacken ihis 
mad speed one iota. 

So close was he now that there was not time for an- 
other shot, with its accompanying manoeuvres. 

Karl had no desire to encounter those wide-spreading 


How Karl Got His Elk. 


51 


and cruel-Iooking antlers, which seemed eager to gore 
him to the ground and beat his young life out then and 
there. 

He sprang behind a tree. 

At such a time it is worth something for the be- 
leaguered hunter to keep his wits about him, and while 
Karl might be hard pressed, he knew how to retain his 
presence of mind. 

The defeat of his purpose seemed only to madden the 
big quadruped still more. 

Recovering from his fruitless onslaught, he set to chas- 
ing the lad around the tree. 

Now Karl was ordinarily a good sprinter, and the 
close proximity of those horns to his heels gave him ad- 
ditional impetus, so that he slipped around that tree in a 
mighty lively fashion. He had the smaller circle, which 
made it all the easier for him. 

When this remarkable game of tag had been kept up 
for several minutes, so that the two participants were 
actually wearing a track along their respective orbits, 
Karl found that he was growing dizzy. 

It is no pleasant task to go round and round in the 
same small circle, especially with a pair of avenging 
antlers at one's heels. 

Perhaps the elk experienced something of the same 
sensation. 

At any rate, he suddenly changed his tactics, as though 
determined that if he could not win one way, he might 
try another. 

Now he charged first on one side and then on the 
other, keeping Karl on the watch, lest he be caught nap- 
ping. 

Karl was now given an occasional opportunity to cast 
a quick glance around him. 

This showed him an opportunity to better his condition. 


How Karl Got His Elk. 


52 

Close by grew twin pines, the space between being 
just large enough to allow him to slip easily through, 
while the elk would be debarred from doing the same by 
his horns. 

Watching his chance, Karl sprang to another tree, and 
when the right time came, changed his quarters again, 
this time reaching the twin pines, where :he intended mak- 
ing his last stand. 

It was easier work than before, eluding the rushes of 
his determined foe. 

All he had to do was to slip through, w^hile the elk was 
compelled to go around. 

Karl felt satisfied. 

He knew the game was in his hands, for he had held 
on to the rifle through all. 

Strange to say, he experienced some little compunction 
about shooting the elk now. 

B> all rights he should have been eager to down the 
big beast, after having experienced such a narrow escape ; 
but it was this very valiant spirit shown by his antlered 
foe that aroused the boy’s love of fair play and ardent ad- 
miration, and, had the elk chosen to trot off, the chances 
are that Karl would have waved his hat after him and 
given him a parting cheer. 

But there seemed no other course for him to pursue 
save to shoot the big fellow, since some accident might 
deliver him to the tender mercies of the beast. 

And, besides, the snow was falling heavily, and he 
had no desire for keeping up this game of tag indefi- 
nitely. 

Accordingly he prepared for the execution, which did 
not take much time, since all he had to do was to force 
the old shell out and place a new one in the chamber of 
his gun. 

He ciij.culated that three bullets were quite enough to 


How Karl Got His Elk. 53 

spend upon even such royal game, and was, therefore, de- 
termined to make this one do the business. 

When his chance came he dropped the elk in his tracks 
with a bullet that must have severed his brave old heart. 
Karl heaved a sigh of relief. 

He stood over his fallen enemy with feelings of sin- 
cere respect. 

The game old chap had made such a gallant fight that 
Karl hardly felt like giving the shout of victory now. 
He had a peculiar fancy to the effect that he had taken 
advantage of the animal in some way. 

Well, what was to be done ? 

Here he had his quarry, but a long distance separated 
him from camp. 

Should he leave hide and flesh to the mercy of the tim- 
ber wolves ? 

That went against his grain somehow. 

So out came his knife, and he set to work, while the 
storm began to gather force and howl through the trees 
like a pack of demons. 

Once Karl raised his head and listened. 

That was the howl of a wolf, surely. 

The keen-scented beasts had apparently already lo- 
cated the booty, and were gathering. 

In time he had made a package of what meat he meant 
to carry to camp, and hung up more in the hide. 

The horns he would secure after the prowlers of the 
woods had picked them clean, if he could again find the 
twin pines with Old Sile’s help. Now he was ready for 
the return. 

It was time. 

When Karl looked around him and saw what progress 
the storm had made in the last hour, he began to have 
some uneasiness. 

Already several inches of snow lay on the ground, and 


54 How Karl Got His Elk. 

the wind was constantly growing more bitter in its keen 
edge. 

He was glad to utilize the woolen toque so as to cover 
his ears, and don the warm gloves to restore the circu- 
lation in his already benumbed hands. 

The next thing was to get his bearings. 

He had a pretty firm faith in his knowledge of the 
direction which he must take in order to regain Paradise 
Camp, and started off with a strong conviction that he 
was right. 

For an hour he buffeted the storm, and then, with not 
a familiar landmark looming up, the first twinge of alarm 
possessed him. 

Could it be possible he had made a blunder, after all, 
and that he was not heading in the proper direction. 

He pulled himself together, mapped out the adjacent 
country in his mind, decided what quarter the storm 
must come from, and where the camp should be located, 
and then, with renewed hope, once more pushed on. 

Somehow he was irresistibly reminded of the great 
blizzard that had descended upon Cuthbert and himself 
while buffalo hunting, on the occasion when, by good 
luck, they were enabled to save the life of Little Buck- 
shot, the son of a Sioux chief, and make a warm friend 
out of one who had heretofore been a bitter enemy. 

Karl hoped this would be nothing like that occasion, 
for a man stood a good chance of freezing exposed to 
such bitter cold. 

When a second hour had passed he knew he was really 
and truly lost. 

This fact did not frighten the lad. He was too accus- 
tomed to depending upon .his own resources to allow such 
a feeling to gain the mastery over him. 

What of it? 


How Karl Got His Elk. 55 

He could make a camp, after a fashion, and weather 
the storm somehow. 

Meat he had in plenty, if only he could manage to 
start a fire. 

How ihe wished he was in some ravine, like that where 
the bears’ den lay. Many a snug hiding-place could be 
found there, in which he might secure shelter, build a 
fire and make himself genuinely comfortable. 

Instead there stretched around him only the great pine 
woods. He seemed to have reached a flat section of 
country, which was totally unfamiliar to him. On every 
hand the prospect was the same interminable timber, 
swaying in the fierce gale, with a shroud of snow shut- 
ting off the vista like a gauzy curtain. 

Besides, the day was almost done. 

The coming of night would make matters decidedly 
worse for any one lost in this storm-swept region. 

Karl was well aware of the fact. 

Another thing gave him some concern. 

He had heard the howl of mountain wolves, now near, 
anon more distant. For some time this had been going 
on steadily, until the boy realized that these sounds were 
really signals. 

What was even more significant, they certainly in- 
creased in number, and the animals began to grow bolder 
with the coming of twilight. 

Several times he had seen dusky, indistinct, shadowy 
figures gallop past, and caught the gleam of savage eyes 
fastened upon him. 

As he stood there making up his mind to abandon all 
efforts to find the camp for the present, and devote his 
whole energies to the task of securing himself against 
discomfort while the storm lasted, lo and behold ! the 
most impudent of wolves trotted into view and sat on his 


How Karl Got His Elk. 


56 

haunches like a great dog, licking his chops in anticipa- 
tion of a feast. 

That was too much for Karl. 

He threw his gun to his shoulder. 

The action alarmed the wolf, and he made a move as 
though to withdraw, but the cowboy served a subpoena 
upon him, and wound up his freebooter career right then 
and there. 

That was one, but there were others, plenty of them, 
for his death yelp was answered from a dozen quarters. 

“By the horn spoon, I believe they’re closing in on me. 
Between wolves and storm. I’m promised a hustling night. 
That was a good, husky chap, and there are more like 
him coming. Guess I’ll keep my magazine chock full, 
for I’ll need every shot before Fm through with these 
pesky pirates, as Old Sile calls ’em.” 

Although he now went on, it was not with the inten- 
tion of searching for the dugout. A place of refuge was 
what he sought. It might be a hollow pine, sufficient 
to protect him from the storm while he made a fire on 
the other side, or, possibly, the upturned roots of some 
great forest monarch, thrown down in a recent tornado. 

Surely some place must be found that would answer his 
requirements. 

It would have to come very soon. 

The night and the wolves were both closing in around 
him very fast. 

Several times he saw the dusky figures skulking past, 
and once his gun spoke, with the result of much yelping 
as the damaged animal limped off through the woods, 
followed by a troop of eager pursuers, under whose fierce 
onslaught the wounded brute would speedily be hacked to 
pieces. 

At last Karl sighted what he desired, a tree torn up 


How Karl Got His Elk. 57 

by the roots, the latter presenting a broadside face to 
the storm. 

There, behind' this shelter, he could make his camp, 
and keep lone vigil until the storm wound up its career. 
Being the first of the season, he did not fancy it would 
have a long life; indeed, they might even enjoy some 
fairly decent weather before grim winter set in with full 
vigor. 

Just before he reached the intended fort there was a 
rush behind and something heavy landed on his back. 

So sudden and unexpected was the assault that Karl 
was thrown over into the snow. 

He scrambled to his feet instantly, still clutching his 
gun, and, even in this short time, he had guessed the 
truth, and that the assault had been made by a daring 
wolf, intent upon carrying off the pack of meat which 
Karl carried on his back. 

Sure enough, it was gone. 

Karl uttered a cry of consternation. He could discern 
the thief, making off as best he was able with the deer- 
skin-bound pack in his mouth, while from several quar- 
ters dusky figures bounded to intercept the successful 
marauder. 

Karl raised his gun and fired, at the same time giving 
vent to a series of shrill shouts as he ran forward to 
(where his quarry flopped about in the snow. 


CHAPTER V. 


THE GRAY TERROR IN THE PINE. 

Taken as a whole, it was a pretty close shave. 

Had the daring marauder been given even half a min- 
ute more of time, he must have carried the precious pack 
so far away that even fleet-footed Karl, using his best 
efforts, might not have been able to rescue it ere the rest 
of the robbers swooped hungrily down and tore it open, 
dividing the contents among them. 

As it was, Karl had an even chance with the onrushing 
pack. 

Another thing was in his favor: The wolves were 
handicapped by the fact that they could not open hostili- 
ties until they had reached close quarters, while his gun 
gave him the advantage of speaking at a distance. 

Seeing how very determined the brutes were, Karl 
realized that he would have to teach them a salutary les- 
son. 

Accordingly he let fly a few shots, so well directed that 
they caused considerable damage to the four-footed pi- 
rates, several limping away wounded, while the rest scam- 
pered off in hot haste. 

The boy stopped over his precious pack only long 
enough to render his Winchester fully serviceable again. 

Then he sought the upturned tree and proceeded to 
make ready for the long and dreary vigil that was before 
him. 

Wood was fairly plentiful, but the lack of an axe 
made his labor doubly difficult. 

To one of Karl’s prairie education it was no serious 
business to light a fire, even under such disadvantages. 


The Gray Terror in the Pine. 59 

How cheery the first blaze seemed, amid the falling 
snow ! 

The upturned roots of the overthrown forest giant 
served to protect the fire in a measure. 

Karl had no time just then to admire his handiwork; 
it was essentially important that he lay in as bountiful 
a supply of wood as possible ere the snow covered every- 
thing up. Even his last salutary lesson had not taught 
his four-footed enemies discretion. 

They still hung around, and their long-drawn, melan- 
choly howls seemed in fitting symphony with the shriek 
of the icy blast as it swept through the pine woods. 

As long as Karl worked he had no trouble about keep^ 
ing warm. 

And the pile of wood began to assume respectable pro- 
portions, too. 

This last fact gave him a grim satisfaction. 

Now he could sit down in a niche he had located, al- 
most free from snow, and contemplate his handiwork. 

A fire is always a welcome guest to the weary, hungry 
pilgrim in the wilderness, and doubly so when the pierc- 
ing wind swoops down from the regions of snow and ice, 
while desperate wild beasts sing of their hungry condi- 
tion all around his camp. 

That reminded Karl of the fact that he had only eaten 
some biscuit as a lunch. 

The opportunity was at hand to appease his appetite, 
as well as lighten his load. 

He had his knife out in a jiffy, cut off several pieces of 
elk meat, and, fastening them to the ends of long splin- 
ters of wood, arranged the crude toasting-forks so that 
the miniature steaks received the benefit of the heat with- 
out being too badly scorched. 

Doubtless it was very primitive, but, all the same, in a 
short space of time a most delightful and appetizing 


6o The Gray Terror in the Pine. 

aroma began to distribute itself around the immediate 
neighborhood. 

If it was tempting to Karl, who expected to enjoy the 
preparing supper, how aggravating it must have been to 
those hungry beasts chancing to float past to leeward of 
the fire, without any hope of participating in the feast? 
He fancied their howls were more mournful than before, 
if such could be possible. 

It was very pleasant sitting there with his back up 
against the solid wall formed by those upturned roots, 
his feet stretched out toward the fire. 

Karl was thankful, indeed. 

It might have been so much worse. He knew of many 
instances where cattlemen had been lost in blizzards and 
frozen to death. 

The only thing that gave him concern was the possi- 
bility of his not being able to keep up a fire all night. 
With such a fierce wind blowing, fuel was bound to be 
eaten up very rapidly, and ten hours is a long stretch. 

As a last resort, he might climb into a tree, but there 
he would be in danger of frostbite, though safe from 
wolves. 

He determined to use his fuel as sparingly as possible, 
in order to stretch it out. 

The fire was built close to a tall pine that seemed 
partly dead, and in course of time this might blaze up, 
giving him a gigantic torch to brighten the dark and 
dreary hours. 

Karl mused as he sat there toasting his shins. 

It was essential that he keep awake, for any slackening 
of his vigil might prove disastrous in more ways than 
one. If the fire burned out he would not only be ex- 
posed to the attacks of those night prowlers, but at the 
same time to the biting frost. 

He could look back to many events in his past, occa- 


The Gray Terror in the Pine. 6i 

sions when the chances seemed even more desperate than 
they were just now. 

Still, he had always managed to pull through, thanks 
to the favor of fortune and his own indomitable courage 
and perseverance. 

This fact kept him from allowing anything like de- 
spair to creep into his heart. 

Ere many hours had passed he expected to be laughing 
with his two comrades over the events of the night. 

It is 'hard to crush such buoyant spirits. 

The world looks bright through youthful eyes. 

As time passed on Karl realized that his greatest strug- 
gle was to be with himself. 

It was very difficult to keep awake. 

The heat of the fire in front, coupled witl) the sharp air 
around him, contributed to a sense of drowsiness such 
as he had seldom known. 

Many times he jumped up and made a search for more 
wood, shouting a little to still more arouse his faculties. 

The hoarse voices of the storm and the howling of 
wolves answered his challenge. 

Karl made up his mind that those skulking brutes 
intended keeping him company all through the watches 
of the night. 

At least the consciousness of danger, which their pres- 
ence suggested, might assist him in combating the temp- 
tations of sleep. 

It was about midnight, he judged. 

Six more long hours. 

How could he endure it ? 

There are few agonies more intense than this awful 
struggle to keep awake when the faculties are dead for 
sleep. 

Many a young soldier has suffered worse under such 
conditions than when facing the bullets of the enemy. 


62 The Gray Terror in the Pine. 

Karl many times came near losing his grip upon the 
situation. 

Frequently he would arouse himself with a sudden 
desperate start, and for a brief time appear to be fully on 
the alert, only to gradually sink back again to the dan- 
gerous stage when the busy brain grows confused and 
the whole muscular system is in the grip of a giant. 

There came a time when Karl was aroused with some- 
thing of a rude shock. 

In leaning back, his elbow by mere chance rested upon 
the package of elk meat, which -he had placed on his left 
side. 

This suddenly was snatched away, causing him to al- 
most fall over. 

It was no accident. 

Karl, fully aroused, snatched up his gun. 

As he turned to that quarter, he was just in time to 
see a shadowy form making off through the swiftly- 
falling snow, which already had reached such a depth in 
some places that it was apt to retard the progress of an 
animal laden down with spoils. 

Karl knew his breakfast was in danger, and he made 
almost ludicrous haste to scramble to his feet and give 
chase. 

In spite of his activity he would have made a mess out 
of floundering through the snow in pursuit of the thief, 
only for the fact of his possessing a gun. 

So uncertain was the light that it required two shots 
to bring the beast down, and when Karl reached the spot 
he was met by a snapping pair of white teeth and eyes 
that glowed hot hate, so that it was necessary for him to 
club the wolf over the head with his gun ere he could 
lay hands on his precious packet. 

Well, this was a great adventure, after all, one he 
might not soon forget. 


The Gray Terror in the Pine. 6} 

Nor was the end yet at hand. 

Warned by this experience, he thought it might be a 
good idea to divide the packet into two parts. 

One of these he secreted under the roots of the fallen 
tree just behind him. 

The other he tied among the branches oi a neighbor- 
ing pine, fully ten feet from the ground, confident that 
the sturdiest old gray wolf in the whole Northwest could 
not touch this treasure trove, no matter how great his 
cunning. 

Thus (another hour or so had passed. 

Time was wearing away. 

It would be a blessed sight when dawn crept through 
the snow-covered forest. 

One thing gave Karl deep satisfaction — ‘the storm, 
while fierce during its stay, was already broken, the wind 
had died down, the snow ceased to fall heavily, and 
by miorning perhaps the clouds would break. 

He hoped so, at least, for he had a serious task be- 
fore him, locating the dugout. 

It was still very cold. 

He might perish if deprived of the fire. 

And the stock of available fuel was dwindling to a 
minimum, at appeared. 

Again Karl skirmished for more fuel with some little 
success. 

To pass the time away, he cooked' another mess of elk 
steak, and this, with the disposal of the same, consumed 
about another hour. 

Then time began to drag again. 

It was 'Worse than before. 

No danger of Karl forgetting this experience in a 
hurry — each miimite was impressed indelibly on his mind 
by the acute suffering he endured. 

While he sat there fighting the demands of nature, he 


64 The Gray Terror in the Pine. 

was suddenly conscious of some movement in the pine 
tree where he had fastened half oif his spKDils. 

At first, in his half-asleep condition, he thought a 
puff of wind had blown one of the branches, and the 
movement had' chanced to catch his eye. 

The fire was nather low just then, it being his policy 
to not drive it any more than he could help, and Karl 
was just dismiis'sing the thing from his mind, when he 
discovered a singular fact that sent an electric thrill 
through him. 

There was no sign of drowsiness about the cowboy 
now, all oi his faculties were keenly on the alert, for 
danger menaced his camp. 

There among the dense branches of the pine he had 
seen two great, greenish-yellow eyes glare out with a 
phosphorescent glow. 

He winked violently, wondering whether this might 
not be an optical delusion of some sort; but when he 
looked again the same fierce eyes glared into his own. 

It was positively a fact then, some animal was in the 
pine. 

That miserable elk meat had already given him a tre- 
mendous amount of trouble, and the end did not seem 
to 'be yet in sight. 

Karl’s hand had unconsciously dropped down on his 
gun even while he stared, and this faithful friend once 
on duty gave him 'a feeling of greater reliance. 

How could a wolf have managed to get up there ? 

Really, 'these animals were the most determined as well 
as wonderful he had ever known. The prairie wolves 
with which he had always been familiar could never 
dream of climbing into the branches of a pine tree, no 
matter how desperately hunger might appeal to their 
ambition. 

By the way, who said it was a wolf ? 




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The Gray Terror in the Pine. 65 

He must not take k for granted that there were no 
other wild aniimial's in the Big Horn region fond of 
fresh elk meat. 

There was the Canada lynx, for instance, that Old 
Sile had knocked over in the camp on their first arrival. 

Karl remembered what a lusty and fierce-looking chap 
he had been, and how the old guide had elaborated upon 
the necessity of shooting to kill when dealing with one 
of this aggressive type, lest the game at close quarters 
result in the hiinter having his garments, perhaps his 
skin, torn into ribbons by the teeth and claws with 
which a bountiful nature had armed the tassel-eared cat. 

Karl looked intently. 

He could see the shadowy outlines of the beast, as he 
squatted upon the limb just above the coveted package 
of meat. 

The fire at intervals had been starting up into a flame 
which, lasting a minute or so, would again die out, leav- 
ing a state of half gloom. 

Karl could, with the toe of his moccasin, touch some 
of the half^burned pieces of wood, giving them a shove 
toward the center. 

Thus it might be expected that in a brief space of time 
there would be something of an illumination around that 
section. 

When he made this move, he heard a low but express- 
ive growl from above, as though such action displeased 
his lordship. 

'Somehow, Karl thought, this was rushing matters, to 
show such a spirit when the other was an unwelcome 
guest. 

Perhaps he wias awaiting an invitation to come down 
from his perch. 

Karl was ready for business. 

Besides holding his gun in a position for immediate 


66 


The Gray Terror in the Pine. 

use, he managed to draw himself up in a bunch, so that 
in an emergency he could either jump or roll aside. 

Sometimes the dying leap of a wild cat is a desperate 
thing indeed, and old hunters have always avoided the 
contact when possible. 

There was no sleep in Karl’s eyes now; indeed, he 
had never been more wide-awake in the whole course 
of his life. 

Thus he waited for the moment to come when the 
blaze would spring up and give him the illulmiiniation 
he needed in order to make his shot tell. 

His eyes still being fastened upon that indistinct mass 
aloft, and growing more accustomed to the semi-gloom, 
he was suddenly made conscious of its size. 

Old Sile had declared the lynx killed in camp to 
have been of unusual dimensions. Just wait until he 
saw this fellow ! 

“He’s a hummer,” thought Karl. 

Indeed, the 'beast looked twice the length of that same 
lynx. 

But what was that moving with a jerky side action 
back of the crouching brute? 

Ah ! the fire began to catch — already there. was a crack- 
ling, and little tongues of flame shot up. 

The darkness must soon vanish. 

And as he looked, Karl saw that the moving object 
was a long, supple tail. How often had he seen a do- 
mestic cat thus crouch and, while watching her intended 
prey, ready for a jump, mwe her tail to and fro in this 
spasmodic fashion. 

But — ^what was this? — no wild cat was ever known 
to sport a tail — could he be facing some remarkable new 
breed, or 

The fire all at once boomed up and cheerily took hold 
upon the fresh fuel. 


The Gray Terror in the Pine. 67 

Karl’s eager eyes saw a long, gray body, at one end of 
which was the jerking tail, while the other was adorned 
with a square, determined-looking head, now resting 
upon the animal’s forepaws, while the wicked eyes were 
fastened hungrily upon the crouching lad belo'W. 

Karl knew all now. 

This was no common bobcat, or even a more danger- 
ous Canada lynx, but the craftiest animal of the wil- 
derness, and, next to the great grizzly bear, the one to 
be 'most feared — a royal American panther, cousin to 
the Mexican puma and the Amazonian jaguar. 

Phew! this was rather crowding the mourners, Karl 
thought. He had already gone through a series of ad- 
ventures that seemed quite sufficient for one night, and 
now this thing was to cap the climax. 

Karl had never killed a panther, though taking part 
in several hunts where a victim was brought down by 
others. 

He -was not quite sure just now whether he ever as- 
pired to such glory, especially under the conditions that 
governed the present case. 

If the beast would become alarmed on account of the 
fire and go quietly away, Karl stood ready, to wish him 
a hearty farewell, and crusl|“ down any covetous desire 
for his sleek, gray hide, which was very generous on the 
part of the young Nimrod, to be sure. 

The panther, however, gave not the slightest indica- 
tion, on his part, savoring of retreat. 

Doubtless he was hungry. 

The odor of the fresh meat so close at hand tantalized 
the beast. 

Besides, he was not in the habit of allowing himself 
to be discouraged by trifles. 

He had no love for fire, and would have to be pretty 
desperate to spring at Karl, -with that blaze between. 


68 The Gray Terror in the Pine. 

but there is no accounting for the actions of such crea- 
tures. 

Karl saw him settling^his haunches on the limb behind. 

He had watched cats do exactly the same thing, when 
making ready to leap upon mouse or bird, and the con- 
viction seized him that the panther meant to spring. 

There was only one thing to do under the circum- 
stances, since he could never hope to hit the beast once 
he. left the limb of the pine, and this was to let him 
have it. 

Accordingly Karl’s cheek pressed the stock of his Win- 
chester. 

It -was dubious work, taking such risks with a poor 
light, but there was no choice. 

The lad was remarkably cool and self-possessed, con- 
sidering his position, and his hand did not tremble in 
the least as he covered the beast as well as the latter’s 
position 'would allow. 

It was a delicate thing to shoot and then get out of 
the way of the animal’s leap. 

Yet Karl managed it. 

He did not take the time to spring erect, but simply 
threw himself to one side, rolling over in the snow like 
a log, all the while maintaining that desperate grip on 
his shooting-iron. 

The owner of the sleek, gray coat sprang all right 
enough, but miscalculated the distance, which, consid- 
ering the fact of his having a bullet landed in his fore- 
shoulder, splintering the bone and playing great havoc, 
was not at all to be wondered at. 

Falling just five feet short of where he had figured to 
alight, he came fairly and squarely down in the middle 
of Karl’s precious fire. 

The way half-burned and blazing fagots flew just 
then was a caution. 


The Gray Terror in the Pine. 69 

The piercing scream of the wounded and scorched 
'beast rang through (the misty aisles of the great pine 
forest until one might have thought some maddened 
creaiture from the lower regions had broken from con- 
finement and raged over the earth seeking victims. 

'Karl knew what had happened even before he scram- 
bled upon his knees and saw the fireworks. 

He also felt sure that as soon as the singed beast got 
his bearings, and discovered where his hated human foe 
had dodged, he would be after him like a hurricane. 

So Karl depended once more on his gun. 

It was not the easiest thing in the world to cover 
the gyrating, frenzied beast, but Karl was quick of eye, 
and presently he found the opportunity for which his 
heart yearned. 

This time there was no escape from the foreclosure of 
the mortgage, and he had the satisfaction of seeing the 
panther spring into the air, try to climb an adjacent pine, 
cling there in the convulsive throes of dissolution, and 
then, as his hitherto unterrified head sank, his claws lost 
their grip and he fell upon the siickw an inert mass. 

A tremendous strain was taken from Karl’s young- 
shoulders with this lucky demise of the panther. 

Giving way to the genuine cowboy element that had 
long become a part of his nature, he sprang up and 
burst into cheers that were fierce and loud, and must 
have caused more or less alarm among the wolves still 
hanging about and bombarding the camp with their long- 
drawn, melancholy howls. 

Well, it was a victory worth winning. 

Karl felt proud of his work as he bent over the still 
warm form and felt of the great muscular strength that 
enabled a panther to make suich tremendous leaps. 

Lucky indeed the lad counted himself to have escaped 


70 The Gray Terror in the Pine. 

an encounter ait close quarters with this terrible beast, 
whose claws would have done awful execution. 

The next thing on the prograimme was to resuscitaite 
the fire and then secure the precious gray hide of the late 
Varrior. 

This would help to pass more time away. 

On the whole, the night was growing old, and he 
promised to survive. 

What a lot of things he would have to tell Cuthbert 
when they met again. 

And Old Sile, would he compliment him on his grand 
victories, or chide because he lost himself in the heat of 
the chase? 

It was about three o’clock in that dready night when 
the pine finally caught fire. 

The blaze curled up around the tree and leaped from 
limb to limb until the whole fabric was alight. 

Karl had no fear o'f setting the forest on fire, since 
the fall of snow entirely prevented the flames from com- 
municating with other trees. 

He sat there for two hours and watched that resin- 
ous, half-dead pine burn — ^^there was a weird fascination 
about the thing, and, besides, it effeotually rid the imme- 
diate neighborhood of any prowling wolves, for they fled 
in terror at sight of that towering column of fire. 

So morning came. 

Karl made another square meal. 

• He had figured it all out where his blunder lay, and, 
with the sun to guide him, started out, laden heavily' 
with elk meat and panther skin. 

In two hours his halloo was answered, and he ran 
across Old Sile, who surveyed him with mingled doubt 
and delight. He had been out pretty much all night, 
searching for the lost boy. 


CHAPTER VI. 


TROUBLE IN THE AIR. 

Wei!, Karl was glad him'self it was all over. 

He had borne the burden manfully, and acquitted him- 
self with honor, but at the same time there was a severe 
strain upon his nervous system which immediately re- 
laxed as soon as his eyes fell upon the quaint and genial 
countenance of Old Sile. 

Of course the veteran had felt some anxiety concern- 
ing the lad. 

It wias true that Karl knew how to take care of him- 
self as well as any man, but to be lost in a blizzard, or 
even an ordinary snowstorm, is an experience that tries 
the best of them. 

What Old Sile really feared was that the lad had been 
injured in some encounter with a wild beast, and might 
have been overtaken by the storm in this helpless con- 
dition. 

He was consequently very glad to see the oow'boy 
again, and when he discovered what manner of burden 
Karl carried on his back he felt like shouting. 

'T declar to Moses if you ain’t been and done it — elk 
and panther — -that’s high game for one day, says I,” was 
the way the veteran expressed his feelings. 

“Where’s Cuthibert?” asked Karl. 

“Lookin’ for you in another quarter. He didn’t sleep 
all night, I reckon.” 

“Well, you can just bet on it I didn’t, with wolves 
snapping at my toes and this old gray huckleberry trying 
to steal my meat out of the tree.” 


72 


Trouble in the Air. 


“Let’s go to him,” said Old Sile, eager to hear an 
aocoun't of Karl’s adventures. 

He 'Shouldered the 'burden with greatest ease, for it 
was plain to be seen that Karl was weary enough to 
drop. 

Old Sile led the way straight as the crow flies. He 
never got lost on prairie or mounitain ; but this could 
not be said in connection with his journeyings in the 
haunts of men, for he had once hopelessly lost himself 
in the city of Chicago, and that experience set him 
chuckling every time be recalled it. 

Cuthbert was not at the dugout. 

A signal had been arranged, however, by means of 
which he might be informed that the lost one had 
turned up. 

Old Sile stepped out and fired three shots in suc- 
cession. 

The air was as clear as a bell, and the trio of reports 
could have been heard an incredibly long distance away. 

“Will that fetch him?” asked Karl, who had stretched 
himself upon his bunk, and, oh, how good it felt to his 
tired frame. 

“If he’s within two miles it will, sure.” 

Old Sile revived the smoldering fire, and in a wonder- 
fully brief time the delicious odor of fine Java coffee, 
which Cuthbert had been very particular to secure to 
suit his taste, filled the interior of the dugout. 

“We took mighty little time with our breakfast, an’ 
I reckon the boy’ll feel like havin’ a bite. So here goes 
the whole hog,” said Sile. 

That meant fried potatoes and bacon. 

Karl was ready to eat again, thanks to the keen air 
and his two-hour tramp. 

Sleep was what he wanted more than anything on 
earth. 


Trouble in the Air, 


73 

After Cuthbert came, and the story had been told, he 
meant to curl up there and enjoy the m'o'st delightful 
nap imaginable. 

Indeed, it was quite a task to keep awake even so 
long. The warmith of the room, added to the ease and 
com'fort of his bunk, seemed to tempt him even more 
than when he kept lone vigil in the snow forest, with 
the blazing pine as his burnt offering. 

Just as Sile pronounced things done to a turn, the 
sound of quick, flying footsteps on the crunching snow 
without announced the arrival of their eomrade. 

>Karl expeoted him as usual in his boisterous 'wiay to 
give a boyish shout or war whoop. 

On the contrary, Cuthbert stood in the doorway ea- 
gerly trying to penetrate the smoky interior of the old 
cabin, a heart-hungry look upon his rosy face. 

Karl sprang to meet him, and was surprised iwhen 
he felt a pair of arms around bis neck, and heard the 
other say, in tones husky with deep emotion: 

"‘Fm awful glad to see you again, old fellow.” 

And Karl knew in that moment what a hold he had 
upon the warm heart of this tried and true comrade, at 
whose side he had gone through thick and thin these 
many m'oons. 

'Cuthbert had suffered keenly in mind. 

He bad im'agined his chum in all manner of danger, 
and groaned because the oonditions did not allow him 
to throw himself into the breach, as he was sO ready 
to 'do. 

And when Old Sile showed the elk meat, and then 
proudly held up the panther skin with the ferooious head 
sitill attached, as was customary, Cuthbert, speechless 
with admiration, could only look at his comrade with 
kindling eyes that spoke even m'ore eloquently than 
words. 


74 


Trouble in the Air. 


“And n'ow squat down to breakfasft afore the gKX)d 
victuals gits cold. When we gits the edge kinder taken 
off our appetites, Karl kin entertain us with the story, 
for I reckon he’s got somethin’ to tell worth hearin’.” 

Karl was quite willing, and sketched the skeleton of his 
story, telling them in a general way what had happened 
to him since parting from them in the morning, leaving 
the particulars for a second recital when his wits were 
brighter. 

They could easily imagine many of the sensations he 
endured, after a skeleton of the story had been sketched. 

Cuthbert drew a long breath as he heard how the 
panther had settled for a spring, how Karl fired and then 
rolled out of the way, and the tremiendous splurge that 
followed the beast’s introduction to the firebrands. 

In imagination he could see it all as plainly as though 
he had been on the spot. What would he not have given 
to have been there and driven home a bullet while the 
beast floundered and writhed and screamed with pain.^ 

Karl gave it up. 

He crawled into the bunk again. 

The murmur of his companions’ voices came to his 
ears for a minute or so, and then he lost all conscious- 
ness of sounds. 

Old Sile knew that Cuthbert was almost as worn out 
as the other, so he insisted upon his securing rest. 

He would look after the traps whenever it was neces- 
sary. 

Something Cuthbert had told him seemed to give the 
old ranger more or less uneasiness, and he secretly 
wished to see for himself. 

It was noon when he sallied fotth, and he hardly ex- 
pected to be baick before dark, but long ere that time one 
of the boys would have aroused, and might be depended 


Trouble in the Air. 75 

on to look after whatever was necessary with regard to 
fire and supper. 

It really appeared as though everything seemed to 
combine on this particular day with the intention of de- 
laying Old Sile. 

Not a trap that he visited but was sprung and had 
to be set and baited, all of which consumed more or less 
time. 

Two had been carried away, necessitating a search, and 
when found they held game which had to be knocked on 
the head and the skin secured. 

It was a red-letter day. 

He took a beaver, a badger, and a magnificent silver 
fox. The last aroused the enthusiasm of the veteran 
trapper, who well knew its great value. It was a fair 
pelt, with deep, glossy, bluish-black hair, and a silvery 
grizzle on forehead and flanks. 

This was only the third Old Sile had ever captured 
during his many )Aears’ experience in the trapping busi- 
ness, proving how rare the silver fox must be. 

Only queens, or the wives of trust magnates, could 
afford to indulge in such a luxury as a cape made 
from' such an expensive material. 

Old Sile felt good over his luck — it promised to be a 
red-letter season for him, unless 

There was something troubling him then. 

Cuthbert had brought information that gave him more 
or less uneasiness. 

He glanced around as he moved along in a manner 
that suggested suspicion. 

They were not alone in this game valley of the Big 
Horn Mountains. 

Old' Sile had anticipated some annoyance from thiev- 
ing Indians ; but if Cutlibert was right, these were white 


76 Trouble in the Air. 


men, 'becaus'e their trail showed^&'at they wore boots 
•with heels. 

It was hardly possible that they could be long in the 
region without discovering signs of our friends’ presence. 

What then ? 

Would they hang around with the intention of steal- 
ing the game from the traps? 

Old Sile’s jaws expressed a grim determination which 
the flash of his eye only seconded. 

In days of yore, when he trapped in company with 
that prince of rangers. Kit Carson, there had been but 
one penalty for a miserable skunk caught red-handed in 
the act of lifting an honest man’s hard-earned pelts 
out of the trap, and that had been to shoot him in his 
tracks. 

Perhaps in these latter days one might not feel that 
the provocation deserved such summary punishment, but 
thievery of this sort always stirs up the worst elements 
in the nature of a trapper. To steal a horse along the 
border was a hanging affair, but in a civilized com- 
munity it is not regarded as a crime on a par with 
murder. 

S'o Sile was doubly cautious on this day. 

He seemed to feel there was trouble in store for them, 
and that the coming of these intruders, whoever they 
might be, would alter the peacefui^ conditions that had 
thus far marked their possession' of Paradise Valley. 

Late in the afternoon he arrived in the vicinity of 
the spot where Cuthbert had discovered the tracks. 

And the last trap he visited had been plainly robbed 
of its victim, a fox. 

The tracks were there as plain as day. 

Evidently the thieves were bold men, and did not care 
whether their presence were known or not. 

Old Sile looked black. 


77 


Trouble in the Air. 

His fighting blood ^ame to the fore. 

Whoever these bold rascals might be, they would find 
they had run up against a snag when they aittempted such 
tactics with an old ranger of his caliber. 

Long and earnestly he examined the footprints in the 
snow, where the spots of blood and tufts of red hair told 
of the stolen game. 

Somehow Old Sile seemed to think he had seen those 
imprints before. 

“It’ll be a cold day fur him when he runs u'p agin 
Old Sile, if so be it’s the feller I suspect,’^ he muttered 

The trap was no longer of any use in that place, now 
that its location was known. 

So he slung it on his back. 

It was in no pleasant humor that Sile started for the 
dugout at dusk, despite the fact that he carried on his 
back a prize pelt that was worth a whole season’s or- 
dinary trapping. 

Meanwhile the two boys slept soundly through most 
of the afternoon. 

Cuthbert was the first to awaken. 

The fire needed attention, so he busied himself in pay- 
ing heed to the wood pile, until once more a cheery blaze 
filled the rude hearth. 

Then Karl yawned and crawled out. 

“How d’ye feel?’’ asked his chum, anxiously. 

“Pretty fair. That was a good sleep. Guess I c?n 
stand my trick at the wheel now until its regular bed- 
time. Sile not in yet?” with a peep from the window 
of the front cabin into the gathering darkness of the 
great pine woods. 

“You see he has a long round to make in order to 
visit all the traps, and somehow I think he’ll take more 
time than usual to-day.” 

Karl swung around on his heel quickly. 


Trouble in the Air. 


78 

There was something in the tone of his friend that 
Struck him as queer. 

“Why to-day?” he demanded. 

Cuthbert smiled at his eagerness. 

“Well, we’re not alone any longer.” 

“The dickens you say!” 

“I saw tracks.” 

“Sure they weren’t our own?” 

A shrug of the shoulders. 

“Indians?” asked Karl again. 

“Never — ^they had boots with heels.” 

Karl digested this. 

He knew full well the significance of such an event. 
Men who wore heeled boots were hardly honest trap- 
pers; more likely they would prove to be desperadoes, 
chased into the wilderness, against whom the hand of 
every man, red or white, was raised. 

“Perhaps they’re just passing through, and may not 
discover signs of us,” he suggested, but at the same 
time he did not himself take much stock in such a pos- 
sibility. 

Deep down in his heart, a vague fear sprang into 
existence. 

He remembered how the renegade cow-puncher Caleb 
Cross had entered into a conspiracy that would have 
done justice to a modern stage melodrama, having in 
view the capture and sequestration of young Cuthbert 
Lee, heir to a healthy fortune in Virginia, with the idea 
of securing ransom. 

Perhaps it was foolish in him to connect that former 
attempt at kidnapping with the appearance of unknown 
men here, but there seemed to be some invisible bond 
between them in his rnind. 

“Then we must keep on our guard night and day 


Trouble in the Air. 


79 

until they vamose the region/' he said, with consider- 
able deliberation. 

“What if ithey choose to stay? What if they are 
thieves and rob our traps?" 

Karl frowned. 

“You remember the stories Old Sile has told us about 
his early days. Kit Oarson shot more than one man 
for such an aict." 

“Nevertheless, I don’t think Fd care to take the life of 
a human being, however degraded he might be, for 
simply helping himsel'f to some fur," said Cuthbent, shud- 
dering. 

“What could be done, then?" asked Karl, sturdily, for he 
had been brought up on the prairie, and from childhood 
had seen the working of the prairie-man’s law — “an eye 
for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and a man’s life for steal- 
ing a horse or raiding cattle." 

Naturalily, then, Karl was more inclined to look upon 
such an offense as robbery in the light of a heinous 
crime, while Cuthbert, bred among civilized and refined 
people would not be apt to think it merited such severe 
punishment. 

“Well," he said, slowly, “the whipping-post, or a coat 
of tar and feathers might redeem such a rascal, I 
imagine." 

Karl’s face relaxed. 

He even laughed at the picture thus conjured up of a 
poor wretch covered only with nasty black tar and the 
contents of a feather pillow, forced to face a cold, wintry 
night up there in the wilderness. 

“I think burning him at the stake would be little 
less cruel than the tar and feather business up here, 
for he’d freeze to death inside of ten hours." 

“Well, let’s hope these bad men will decamp and leave 


8o 


Trouble in the Air, 


US in peace. I wouldn’t like to answer for Old Sile 
if he runs across thenij I tell you.” 

“Dear Old Sile ! What a blessed big heart he’s got, in 
spite of his queer ways.” 

“Yes ; and he’ll be coming in soon.” 

“Cold as an iceberg.” 

“And hungry as — as that panther when he sat in the 
tree above the elk meat and refused to be looked out of 
countenance by you.” 

“Then our duty is plain.” 

“Let’s get supper.” 

It was a task these two lads, always hungry, never 
wearied of. 

The fire glowed invitingly, and the whole interior of 
the dugout looked cheerful indeed, especially in con- 
trast with the cold and darkness without. 

At any rate, two men who peered in through the small 
window could not but contrast their own forlorn condi- 
tion with the cozy aspect that met their eyes within. 

Unconscious of being watched, the boys pursued their 
culinary labor. 

Presently that same subtle aroma of coffee stole through 
the cracks and appealed irresistibly to the appetites of the 
fellows without. 

They seemed to thresh over an old argument once more, 
gestures taking the place of words to a considerable de- 
gree. One wished to intrude upon the boys immediately, 
while the other, more cautious, would rather hold off until 
they had obtained a better grasp upon the situation as to 
what company the lads might have, and such other facts 
as were connected with the case. 

A compromise was at length effected. Perhaps the 
more the timid man snuffed at the aromatic odor emanat- 
ing from the old dugout, the weaker grew his opposition. 

At any rate, he yielded the game. 


Trouble in the Air. 8i 

So quietly was the door pushed open that neither Karl 
nor his busy chum had any indication of the fact. 

They both bent over the fire, intent upon the culinary 
duties that engaged their attention. 

The two men drew closer. 

One of them, with the swagger of a cowboy in his 
make-up, threw a leg over the end of the table, and looked 
as impudent and perfectly at home as you please. 

The other, more cautious, made sure to glide over so 
that he would stand between the two lads and their guns, 
resting on pegs that were driven into the wall. 

It was a peculiar scene. 

The boys had about completed preparations for supper, 
everything was cooked, and both of them hoped Old Sile 
would soon be along. 

Cuthbert, burning from the heat over the fire, thought 
he would go to the door and cool off for a few minutes 
while looking for the veteran. 

As he turned and took one step forward his eyes fell 
upon the swinging leg of the bold fellow who straddled 
one corner of the table. 

It was the biggest surprise Cuthbert had ever received 
in the whole course of his life. And the acutely disagree- 
able nature of it lay in the fact that this swaggering fel- 
low was no stranger to the lad. 

He had not forgotten Caleb Cross and his bold scheme 
for entrapping Cuthbert Lee, whom he might hold until 
a healthy ransom had been paid to deliver the lad from 
durance vile. 

This was the same Cross. 

A strange freak of chance, or perhaps some determined 
planning on his part had once more drifted his miserable 
life line across that of the young Virginian. 

Cuthbert was so amazed, so taken by surprise, that for 
the nToment he even lost pontrol over his tongue. 


82 Trouble in the Air. 

The man grinned in what was doubtless intended to be 
an affable way. 

‘‘How d'ye do, boys?” he rasped, in bis peculiar tone, 
that, once heard, could never be forgotten. 

Karl sprang up as though touched by the poles of a 
galvanic battery. 

He held a long spoon in his hand, with which he had 
been basting some meat. 

That voice was very familiar tO' him, and he knew it 
presaged trouble, even before his eyes fell upon the in- 
solent face of Caleb Cross. 

The exiled cowboy, whose life upon the range could 
never again be resumed after what he had done, gave 
him the laugh. 

“P’raps you remember me, little Karl. I see you do 
now, from your scowl. Never mind squintin’ toward 
them! guns. My friend Pepito will take care of them 
dangerous toys. Didn’t expect to see me here, eh? Well, 
I’ve got a faculty for bobbing up serenely when I’m least 
expected. Pretty nicely fixed you be. This is a jim 
dandy of a dugout; better than any teamster or mule- 
skinner like Pepito here has a chance to eat in. Awful 
glad to see you, kids. That supper smells fine. This 
your table here? Excuse my occupying it — been so long 
since I’ve sat down at one, I almost forgot my manners.” 

He swung his leg, covered with the usual leather over- 
alls or chaps of a cowman, from the article in question. 

“Well, what d’ye want, Caleb Cross ?” demanded Karl, 
who had now recovered from his surprise. 

The fellow looked at his yellow-skinned companion 
and laughed harshly. 

“Listen to that, Pepito; what do* we want, and with 
that agonizing swell in the air ? We’ve corraled the out- 
fit, and you bet we don’t pull leather till we’ve rounded 
up that gay supper over yonder. Come, get a hustle on 


Trouble in the Air. 83 

you, kids, and dish her up, for Ym as hungry as a wolf, 
I tell ye/^ 

'‘So was that gent yonder,’’ Karl said, quietly, point- 
ing to the panther skin hanging on the wall of the shanty, 
his square head in plain sight. 

“Eh ?” grunted Cross, staring. 

“But I got him all the same,” concluded the youngster, 
grimly, meeting the fierce glance of the bad man with a 
look of cool defiance. 

“Oh ! ye did, eh ? Well, you won’t find it so easy to 
pot me, d’ye hear? I’ve met you before, my husky lad, 
and I give you fair warnin’ that I’ll not take any foolish- 
ness from such as you. Now git to work.” 

The man was plainly uneasy. 

He did not exactly fancy that confident strain in Karl’s 
defiant voice. In the parlance of the border, it sounded 
too much as though he had “a card up his sleeve,” which, 
when played, would cause consternation. 

Karl gave him one look. 

Then, as if to obey, he turned to the fire. 

The man was evidently surprised at the easy victory 
he had gained. 

“Set here, Pepito amigo. Stay — ^bring them gun's with 
ye, so as to keep the kids outen mischief. I’ll watch the 
door, ’cause ye see I’ve got an ijee — ^^great Jerusalem! 
w^hat’s that ? — here, stop it, I tell you,” he bellowed lustily, 
for Karl was deluging him with scalding water dipped 
with a gourd from a dishpan that rested over the fire. 


CHAPTER VII. 

THOSE ''bad MEN.^^ 

The free, rollicking life of a Western cowboy is very 
apt to make one self-assertive and independent in action. 

Thrown upon their own resources so frequently in the 
course of their adventurous career, these Bedouins of the 
plains learn to think and act in the same breath, as it 
were. 

Karl had shown this deserving trait on many a former 
occasion when the odds seemed about to overwhelm him. 

He seemed to know just what to do in order to meet 
a sudden emergency, when the call for action was against 
him. 

This rascal of a Caleb Cross was well known to him, 
and he had always shunned the fellow as a type with 
which he had no sympathy. 

Cross had usually pretended to look down upon him 
as a "kid,” though Karl was stout, and could have held 
his own with most range riders when it came to a thor- 
ough knowledge of those things so necessary in a cattle- 
man. 

Perhaps it was this very manliness in the youngster 
that irritated the fellow. His own life had been one of 
dissipation and sin, and the evil within his heart forced 
him to hate all that was good and true. 

Karl was very much averse to taking life unless forced 
into the last ditch. 

There was nothing, however, to prevent him from de- 
moralizing the enemy with whatever means lay nearest 
his hand. 


Those “Bad Men.” 


85 

Water and Caleb Cross had never agreed, and there- 
fore it became Karl’s policy to stir up strife between them. 

That the fluid was heated to the boiling point made 
the argument all the stronger. 

No wonder the bully bellowed so lustily as he received 
dipper after dipper of the scorching liquid distributed 
about his person. 

It burnt even through his garments, and whenever it 
splashed upon his face the contact was very much like 
that of molten lead. 

He danced, he dodged, he writhed and twisted, all the 
time endeavoring to protect his red face from the scald- 
ing shower, and giving forth howls that would have 
frightened a coyote into fits. 

It was a very singular spectacle, one not to be met 
with every day. 

At least, so thought Old Sile, as he stood in the door- 
way and swept a pair of astonished eyes around the in- 
terior of the dugout. 

Karl had gained great glory in the mind of the veteran 
by the manner in which he carried himself through the 
stirring adventure with the maddened elk and the hungry 
panther, but now he quite won the old ranger’s heart 
through the heroic treatment he accorded the bad man 
who had invaded Paradise Camp. 

Pepito, the greaser, had been too much astonished 
when this bombardment began to make any move looking 
to the assistance of his colleague. 

He, too, had as decided aversion to the outward appli- 
cation of water, hot or cold, as Caleb, and the sight of 
the cowboy dealing it out in such generous doses filled 
him with horror. 

Recalled to his senses by the cries of the beleaguered 
one, the Mexican endeavored to overawe the youngster, 
Karl, by threatening him with the weapons which he 


86 


Those “Bad Men.” 


had been carrying in his arms at the time the avalanche 
of hot water began. 

Cuthbert had not forgotten that he had a concern in 
this affair. 

Every one might not be in a position to deal out such 
generous quantities of heated water, but there was some- 
thing for every willing pair of hands to do. 

The cowboy instinct, was strong within the Virginian, 
and almost unconsciously he snatched down a lariat which 
had hung from a wooden peg. 

It was his own rope, tried and true. 

Many a good cast he had made with it, and many a 
steer it had thrown. 

Associations had rendered it precious in the eyes of 
the erstwhile tenderfoot, and this accounted for the pres- 
ence of the lasso in this Northern wilderness, where 
such a thing could hardly be of service in roping the 
fleet-footed elk or the monstrous grizzly bear. 

Since Karl seemed to claim a monopoly of the Cross 
outfit, Cuthbert was of necessity compelled to turn his 
attention to the man who came from sunny Mexico. 

If he could corral him in such confined space, it would 
be something of a feat indeed. 

He swung the shortened rope in a way that meant 
business, sure enough. 

The fates favored him, for, naturally, the Mexican's 
attention was wholly taken up with the determined dis- 
penser of hot water, whose arm seemed never to tire of 
dealing out dippers of his favorite fluid. 

And Cuthbert, like the darling he was, rounded up his 
bunch in a way that did great credit to the one who had 
taught him the rudiments of lariat tossing. 

For the yawning loop fell over the head and shoulders 
of the greaser, was jerked tight as it inclosed its quarry, 
and there the sallow-featured son of Mexico stood. 


Those “Bad Men.” 


87 

trussed up like a fowl for the spit, both arms pinioned 
at his sides, together with the gun he had been in the 
act of leveling. 

It was all done in a few winks, too. 

No wonder Old Sile started as he opened the door and 
beheld such a spectacle. No 'wonder a huge grin began 
to spread over his weather-beaten face. 

He was proud of those boys, and ready to back them 
against the world just then. 

The confusion was tremendous. It wias as though a 
hurricane had struck Paradise Camp, and threatened to 
demolish it. 

Karl’s supply of dishwater was limited, and by this 
time he began to resort to threats. Every timie he made 
a motion as if to throw, Caleb Cross would hunch him- 
self up and endeavor to avoid displaying any portion of 
his cuticle that he oould conveniently hide. 

Cuithbert, having bagged his game, was in somewhat 
of a quandary as to how he might dispose of it, for 
should he loosen his grip on the lariat the greaser might 
burst loose and do bodily harm to his captor. 

Plainly, then, a weapon was what he needed to possess 
most of alll, and, in order to accomplish this, Cuthbert 
must run up bis rope hand over hand until he reached 
the struggling victim, since he had cached all the guns 
they had in the shanty. 

This he did while Karl kept the other fellow on the 
jump, desperately dodging many a sweeping feint. A 
burnt child dreads the fire, and if Caleb had been given 
an opportunity just then to declare what was the most 
objectionable element on the face of the whole earth, he 
would have unquestionably and vociferously said hot 
water. 

When Cuthbert managed to stoop and snatch his own 
reliable Winchester from the hard dirt floor of the cabin 


88 Those “Bad Men,” 

in front of the dugout he had the thrill of victory pos- 
sess him. 

Henceforth there were no more terrors for him in 
these two rascally allies by whom their peaceful camp 
had been invaded. 

Karl, seeing how matters sifcood, advanced and took his 
0!wn gun from the nerveless hand of the Mexican, who 
offered not the slightest objection. He had perhaps been 
known as a bad man in his time, but there was something 
in the astonishing and original tactics of the two young- 
sters that awed him. 

Old Sile now made known his presence by moans of a 
hearty guffaw. 

'No one had noticed him before. 

The boys looked radiant when he beamed upon them 
so proudly. 

As for Caleb Cross and his yellow-skinned pard, they 
hung their heads, not that sorrow for their sins had 
overtaken them, but on account of having to confess a 
disastrous defeat at the hands of such youngsters whom 
they sneered at as “kids.’’ 

“Wall, I declar to Moses if that ain’t the greatest trick 
I ever seen done. Scotched a bar in camp onct myself 
by soakin’ him with scaldin dishwater, but a human 
bein’! Great Scott, Caleb, no danger o’ you bein’ froze 
arter that bilin’.” 

Then he grew very stern, remembering the fact that 
in dealing with these men they were handling snakes 
ever ready to turn and strike a venomous blow, not to be 
trusted any more than a diamond-back rattler. 

“I’ve left the door open, men. Yer company ain’t de- 
sired here any longer, but before ye vamose I want to 
tdl ye one thing. Old Sile’s got a good eye — a, hawk 
ain’t no better — and I give ye my word that if I see any 
sign o’ ye around these diggings arter to-morry I’m 


Those “Bad Men.” 89 

a-goin’ to track ye down an’ shoot on sight. Now, slip 
while ye hev ithe chance/’ 

Caleb was very unCom.fortable. His flesh felt as 
though iit might be on fire. 

He subdued the passionate rebellion in his heart be- 
cause he feared this gaunt old man, who had the upper 
hand now. 

'It’s a beastly cold night to turn even a dog adrift, 
Sile Wegg,” he said. 

“That’s right true, but you and your pard are an in- 
sult to the meanest dog that ever walked the earth. 
Here you don’t stay, if ye freeze to death in the forest. 
Men like you ain’t a-goin’ to give up the ghost so easy. 
Thar’s venison for ye; now be off, find a shelter in some 
ravine and cook supper. Then when mornin’ comes step 
lively, for I shall be on yer trail, ready to keep my iword.” 

They knew he meant it. 

The Mexican made a signal. He was a cautious chap, 
and had a desire to set eyes on his warm country again. 
This snow-covered wilderness of the Northwest did not 
please him very much, and it was a beastly country to 
lay one’s bones in. 

Caleb saw his companion pick up the piece of deer 
meat Silas had tossed toward them so contemptuously. 

He knew this was not their hour, that luck had set in 
heavily against their side, and it would be folly to resist. 

Besides, Caleb was a good waiter, and the scheme he 
had in view for snatching a big fortune through the pos- 
session of the Virginia boy would not spoil by being de- 
ferred. 

Twice had he failed. 

There is often luck in the third time. 

Without a word, either blessing or curse, he picked up 
his gun and went out. 


90 Those “Bad Men.” 

Ole Sile followed at his heels, evidently not trusting 
the two scamps. 

The sfting of their defeat, coupled -with the aggravat- 
ing sensation of scalded cuticle, might influence Caleb to 
turn when once outside the dugout and discharge his 
weapon with murderous intent. 

Old Sile swung the shutter over the little window and 
closed the door. 

'‘Turn to the left; ye’ll find a ravine not half a mile 
away; good shelter and plenty o’ firewood,” he called 
after the shadowy figures that trudged over the snow. 

Not a word came in answer. 

Doubtless more than one backward glance was taken ; 
but, although Old Sile could not be seen, they knew full 
well he was standing in the shadow of the trees, keeping 
tab of their movements. 

And well did Caleb know the wonderful accuracy with 
which he could send a rifle bullet upon its errand. 

So they melted away from his sight. 

Old Sile stood there and listened until he could no 
longer catch the crunching sound of their footsteps in 
the frozen snow. 

It was indeed a cold night to be out in the timber, but 
these worthies knew what they were about when they 
chose to defy the weather. 

What brought them to this region, anyway? 

They had not come to do honest trapping, and at this 
time Oii year desperadoes of their stripe usually sought 
the border towns or migrated south to a warmer clime. 

Yes, what took them to the wilderness? 

Old Siile knew they were men who seldom did any- 
thing without a motive. 

He could give a pretty accurate guess that the For- 
tunatus bee still buzzed very loudly close to Caleb’s ear, 
and that he wias loth to give up the wonderful scheme 


Those “Bad Men.” 91 

he had arranged whereby young Lee might prove a 
veritable giold mine on his hands. 

Old Sile listened to the snapping of the snow-covered 
boughs in the forest, as the cold worked among them. 
He heard the soft winnowing of an owl close by. He 
looked up to where the stars peeped out of a frosty sky, 
and he shook his grizzled head. 

‘‘I’m afraid they’ll force me to do it, much as I hate to 
drap a man. But I give ’em fair warnin’, and it’ll be no 
fault o’ mine if so be they force my hand. All I ask is 
to be let alone in peace ; but the ole spirit runs high to- 
night, an’ they’d best look out.” 

After a while, believing the fellows had really made 
for the ravine in order to start a campfire and make them- 
selves comfortable, he again entered the cabin, taking 
care to secure the door on the inside. 

The boys had cleared up what muss the strange en- 
counter had caused, and iwere now only waiting for Sile 
to begin supper. 

All being sharply pressed by hunger, which the recent 
affair had in no wise abated, they set about the congenial 
task of eating before commenting on the situation. 

Karl tried hard to be quite as usual, but it was difficult 
to keep the twinkle of humor from appearing in the cor- 
ners of his eyes when he thought of the sailor’s horn- 
pipe Caleb Cross had indulged in while reoeiving his 
medicine. 

Finally, Old Sile himself started the racket by leaning 
back and snorting in his peculiar way. 

“That was a round-up wuth talkin’ about. I’m tellin’ 
you. Never seed so hot a time in a dugout. Every 
dipper went straight to the mark, an’ for the life o’ me I 
don’t see how the tenderfoot got his noose over the 
greaser so pat. It was well done, boys ; I give ye great 
credit — ^wonderfully well done. Parse the coffee this 


92 Those “Bad Men.” 

way, Karl; tastes unusually good to-night arter a cold 
day.’’ 

By degrees the veteran told what he had done during 
the day. 

At s'ight of the silver fox pelt, woirth several (times its 
weight in gold, their enthusiasm was aroused. 

This was something like business. If those rascally 
allies would only let them alone to enjoy this paradise in 
the wilderness, there promised to be good times ahead. 

At any rate, they had a tower of strength in Old Sile. 

So they took heart and tried to forget the evil in- 
fluence which had sought them out here, far from the 
haunts of men. 

It was very comfortable in the old dugout while the 
Frost King exerted himself without so that even the little 
creek was congealing and would be icebound by morning. 

Time slipped along. 

At about their usual hour for retiring the boys were 
surprised to see Old Sile put on his fur cap, and miake 
other preparations as if to go out for a jaunt. 

Instinctively they guessed his mission. 

He was not easy in his mind regarding the inteidopers 
in their Eden, and meant to take a little scout toward the 
ravine. 

“Fasten the door behind me. When I come I’ll call 
Karl,” he said, and disappeared. 

It was about nine o’clock. 

The sky, as seen overhead where the bushy-topped 
pines grew scantily, was as clear as a bell, and a multi- 
tude of stars shone as they only seem to shine on a frosty 
winter’s night. 

Old Sile had by no means forgotten the tricks learned 
many years before, when there was always war to the 
knife between the Indians and those daring trapper bands 
venturing into the haunts of game'land after fur. 


Those “Bad Men.” 95 

He moved off like a shadow, his gun ready for im- 
mediate use should the occasion arise. 

Old memories were revived. 

He lived again those halcyon days 'when at the side of 
bluff Kit Carson he had learned the secrets of nature, 
and how the energy of a white man might overcome the 
cunning of savage hearts. 

It was a pleasant sensation in one respect, and then 
again he experienced regret, for there were some stormy 
scenes in his checkered career that as an old man Sile 
would not enjoy resurrecting, although they were noth- 
ing to be ashamed of. 

All the while he covered ground with his long legs, 
heading steadily for the ravine to which he had directed 
the twain. 

Would they heed his warning and clear out of the re- 
gion in the morning? 

He had meant all he said, and it would be a serious 
thing if they dared him further. 

On the way he saw no living thing but a skulking 
wolf that made off over the white ground in great haste, 
alarmed at the presence of man, for these animals seldom 
grow bold save when hunting in packs. 

Before Sile reached the ravine he could see the reflec- 
tion of a fire and knew the men were there. 

Still he persisted in going closer. 

There was little fear of discovery, since he had an idea 
that the fell'ows would rather hug the warm blaze than 
prowl around hunting danger. 

They knew how to keep away the chilly breath of Jack 
Frost. Two fires had been built, and between them the 
adventurers sprawled, sucking consolation from black 
pipes and in all probability laying plans for the morrow. 

Old Sile had seen enough. 

He nodded his head wisely 'while he muttered : 


94 


Those “Bad Men.” 


“If ye mind yer good angel, ye’ll be levantin’ with the 
first streak o’ day. It’s dangerous to monkey with a 
buzz saw. And now to home and bed.” 

Satisfied, he turned his back on the coulie and walked 
away with a springy step, just as though he had not 
tramped weary miles since sunset of the previous day. 

That iron frame seemed good for some years of cam- 
paigning yet. 

Perhaps, could Old Sile have heard the subject of the 
conversation engrossing the attention of those two de- 
lightful scoundrels, he might not have departed with such 
a care-free mind. 

For they meant mischief. 

The disaster that had overwhelmed them at the dugout 
had aroused every slumbering atom of evil in their na- 
tures. 

It would not be like such vagabonds to flee the country 
without one last desperate attempt to get even. 

Fairly satisfied with #the way things were working, 
the veteran soon covered the half-mile intervening be- 
tween ravine and camp. 

He found the door barred, but upon uttering the 
signal agreed upon Karl quickly opened to him. 

Neither of the boys had crawled into their bunks. In 
the first place, they did not feel sleepy after the long nap 
of the afternoon, and then, again, the recent excitement 
had not as yet wholly left them. 

Until Sile showed up, they felt as though on guard. 

At any rate, this vigil was as nothing when compared 
with what Karl endured on the previous night in his lone 
camp, where the hungry wolves kept up their concert, 
and the panther made a bid for his provisions. 

When Sile had given in a report of his cruise, the boys 
breathed easier. 

The danger was then a thing of the past. 


Those “Bad Men.” 


95 

They could snuggle down under the warm woolen 
blankets, after the fire had been arranged to burn some 
hours, and defy the rigors of the night. 

No matter how bitter the temperature without, it only 
takes a moderate blaze to make a dugout feel comfortable. 

Homely it is, and must always be, as a place of resi- 
dence, but for genuine comfort the “hole in the hill” 
beats all creation. 

Soon silence fell upon the scene. 

Only the snapping of a burning brand or the heavy 
breathing of a sleeper could be heard. 

The hours glided on. 

Outside the prowling predatory wolf sneaked up to 
the door of the cabin, and then trotted away to mourn- 
fully bewail his hungry condition within the timber’s shel- 
ter. The lonely owl in the wood whimpered his woes 
and called to his absent mate. The night wind murmured 
through the needles of the whispering pines; yet within 
the dugout all was warm and cheery. 

Once, twice. Old Sile got up and threw another log on 
the fire. Habits of years were not to be shaken off, and 
each time he rose he opened the door for an observation, 
always finding the weather conditions the same. 

At the tail end of the night, just an hour or so before 
daybreak, slumber lies heaviest of all upon mankind. 

By chance Cuthbert awoke. 

A nightmare had perhaps burst the bonds of slumber 
and caused his eyes to open ; or, possibly, he had finished 
his sleep'. 

As he lay there, rubbing his eyes and yaw'hing, his at- 
tention was attracted toward a bright line at the window, 
where the shutter failed to completely cover the opening. 

It was rosy red, like the blush of dawn when the sun’s 
glorious rays shoot aslant the horizon. 

But, then, the window was on the southern side of 


96 


Those “Bad Men.” 


the cabin, and never before had he seen the light of 
sunrise through the opening. 

Thus it broke upon him that there was something very 
singular about it. 

There was Old Sile. He ought to know. 

When Cuthbert's lusty voice had broken loose two 
half-dressed figures sprang out upon the hard earth 
floor. One look the veteran gave, and then made for the 
door, shouting: 

“This way, quick, boys! All creation’s bein’ warmed 
up. Them onery skunks have been an’ fired the heap o’ 
brush alongside the cabin!” 


CHAPTER VIII. 


A MEMORY OF THE STAMPEDE. 

The boys only waited to pull on some outer garments, 
remembering the bitterness of the atmosphere without, 
and then they, too, made for the open air as speedily as 
possible. It was a calamity that threatened them, for, 
should the cabin go up in flames, the chances were that 
they must lose the greater part of their stores, those ne- 
cessities upon which they depended for their winter's 
campaign. 

The prospect was really appalling. 

The fire blazed high up in the frosty air, and lighted 
the adjacent pine forest, giving a terrible scarlet tinge 
to every object within a radius of twenty yards. 

As clear as day they could see the ice-bound brook and 
the landing near by. 

It was no time for such observation. 

Old Sile, half-robed as he was, had gone to work with 
heroic zeal. 

He seemed a veritable salamander as he rushed into 
the midst of the brush and threw it right and left, as 
though a cyclone had struck in that quarter. 

It was their only chance to save the cabin front of 
their dugout and all it contained. 

The boys entered the game with a vim such as char- 
acterizes the cattle-herders in all they undertake. 

Snatching up such poles as came under their hands, 
they threw themselves into the midst of the brush heap. 

With such an example before them as the valorous 
veteran, there was no danger of the boys not doing their 
share. 


98 A Memory of the Stampede. 

It was a hustling scene for a brief time. 

Not a shout did they give, but with grim earnestness 
of purpose they stamped on the brush, scattered it over 
the snow-covered surface of the earth, and in various 
ways played havoc with the monster that had threatened 
to destroy their home. 

Such tactics deserved success, and were bound to bring 
it about. 

When Old Sile saw that they had won, he left the 
boys to complete the job and hurried inside the cabin 
to don more clothes. 

There they found him later, toasting his feet before 
the fire, which he had started into new life. 

The old fellow had received numerous burns, none of 
them serious, luckily, and his face was almost as black 
as that of a Guinea negro, so that when he turned and 
smiled at the boys of one accord they burst into a hearty 
laugh. 

“Wall, I declar’ to Moses, but that was an experience, 
now. I like a fire such raw weather as this, but that was 
a leetle too hot.” 

The humorous look left his face, and he scowled like a 
pirate. 

“Them, miserable critters thought to git even by burnin’ 
us in our bunks, or, at least, makin' Vay with all our pos- 
sessions. Let me git sight o’ ’em agin, and they’ll pay 
the piper as them that dance should.” 

Old Sile could look very ferocious when he chose, and 
few there were who cared to provoke the veteran to anger. 

He was a powerful man with muscles hardened by 
long years of outdoor exercise until they seemed like 
steel. 

Cuthbert felt uneasy. 

Men who would he guilty of a deed like this might not 


A Memory of the Stampede. 99 

hesitate to play the part of bushwhacker, and shoot from 
ambush. 

“Our winter’s sport is spoiled, then,” he said, moodily 
enough, for he had counted on having a glorious time 
all around. 

“Oh, I don’t know !” ventured Karl, who had so much 
dependence on Old Sile that he was ready to believe him 
capable of anything. 

The veteran smiled. 

“But if those scoundrels are going to annoy us all the 
time, where’s the fun ?” continued Cuthbert, only half re- 
assured. 

“Make your mind easy on that score, lad; they ain’t 
goin’ to give us any more bother, I reckon. This was 
the last strike. They know Old Sile, an’ I warrant you 
they be makin’ tracks out o’ this region jest now as fast as 
their legs kin take ’em. They expect I’ll pick up the trail, 
an’ that’ll keep ’em on the jump right along.” 

He chuckled softly, as though mentally picturing the 
hasty exodus of the adventurous couple from Paradise 
Valley. 

“Will you pursue?” asked Karl. 

“What’s the use? Let ’em run. We ain’t hurt, I 
reckon. All we kin do is to wait and allers be ready in 
case they comes back along toward spring. Tlien — 
wall, I shan’t ask no questions, but jest whack in.” 

That was the programme. 

When the sun came up and breakfast had been dis- 
patched, they set about repairing any small damage that 
had been done to the camp. 

Of course, with the brush heap gone, the cabin was 
in plain sight, should any one pass up or down the creek, 
but this could not be remedied, and they must let it go. 

Possibly not a living soul save themselves would be in 
the valley all winter. 

I Lore. 


100 A Memory of the Stampede. 

There were always some chances to take in affairs of 
this kind, and this must not be allowed to interfere with 
the keen enjoyment that had been anticipated. 

So they took up the routine again. 

The boys made the round of the traps, for by this time 
they were to be trusted with the delicate task, so quickly 
had they acquired the knack under Old Sile’s tutelage. 

As for him, he had various duties to perform, prepar- 
ing what skins they had already secured, including the 
precious silver fox and Karl’s panther. 

Then he set out to visit the scene of Karl’s night vigil, 
intending to bring in the balance of the elk meat, if so 
be the cats had not made off with it before now. 

So well had Karl described the place that the veteran 
made a bee line for it, and in less than two hours discov- 
ered the blackened stump of the burnt pine. 

There was the upturned forest monarch, with its roots 
and the mold attached, forming a magnificent shelter 
against a northerly storm. 

He could easily see the whole thing in imagination — 
Karl sitting there, and the great gray cat upon the branch 
of a pine — yes, it was even possible to locate the particu- 
lar limb. 

The snow was tracked up by wolves, and all traces of 
anything edible had completely vanished as though by 
magic. 

From this spot Old Sile laid his course for the double 
pine where Karl had his first adventure with the wounded 
elk. 

Again he hit his objective point with unerring skill, 
proving his knowledge of woodcraft to be of the highest 
order. 

There was the package of elk meat, suspended just as 
Karl had left it, and wrapped in the frozen skin of the 
animal. 


A Memory of the Stampede. loi 

A couple of wolves loped away at his approach, and 
a wolverine about to make an attack on the provisions 
disputed his rights with such an ugly front that Old Sile 
dropped him by means of a well-directed shot. 

When he reached the dugout he had just about as big a 
load on his shoulders as he cared to carry. 

The boys were back from making the rounds. 

A few pelts had been secured, but nothing remarka- 
bly fine — silver foxes were not to be run across every day, 
it seemed. 

Cuthbert sauntered off, gun in hand, to pick up some 
small game for supper. 

He was not particular what it should be. A couple of 
long-eared jack rabbits would have filled the bill, if noth- 
ing else showed itself. 

In less than twenty minutes he was back at the cabin 
out of breath. 

“Ducks — a whole hangout of ’em, down the creek 
where it widens into a little lake. The middle isn’t 
frozen ; and they’re there. Come along, Karl,” he 
gasped, as he hastened to lay hold of the shotgun — a 
twelve-bore Parker that had served him faithfully during 
many a Virginia hunt. 

Into his pocket he jammed a dozen shells, loaded with 
duckshot — about number threes. 

Karl was busy making something, and shook his head 
in the negative. 

Truth to tell, the boy still felt the effects of his dance 
around the trees when so hotly pursued by the mad elk, 
and hardly cared to walk any more than he had already 
done that day. 

“Let all the glory be yours, old chap. But be sure and 
get three — one apiece — for Pm able to pick the bones 
of a full-grown mallard,” he called. 

Cuthbert wagged his head and laughed. 


102 A Memory of the Stampede. 

Then he ran off down the creek. 

Drawing near the pond, he stirred up his hunter in- 
stincts, so as to approach it the right way. 

Luck doubtless enters into duck hunting, as well as 
nearly everything else, but there is much to be learned 
regarding the habits of the birds, and this knowledge us- 
ually brings its reward in the way of fat bags. 

Cuthbert had done considerable of this thing along the 
eastern shore in Maryland, where the canvasbacks feed 
upon wild celery and acquire the delicious flavor that 
sometimes makes them worth five dollars a brace in the 
market. Along Chincoteague way and all through that 
famous oyster region he had been wont to spend many 
weeks early each winter. 

Hence, he knew something about ducks, though their 
habits differ in various localities and the game found in 
the great Mississippi Valley or the Northwest would have 
to be hunted in a manner quite at variance to that in 
vogue along the bays of the Atlantic seaboard. 

He finally began his advance. 

There was some brush for shelter. 

Besides, the bank of the creek just here chanced to be 
rather high, and by creeping on hands and knees, occa- 
sionally snaking it when necessary, he approached the 
edge. 

The ducks were still there — two dozen of them. 

By degrees he gained a point which was within fair 
gunshot of the wild fowl. 

Now for a potshot at them as they sat there, and a 
second on the wing when they arose! 

There was a tremendous excitement out on the water 
when his gun spoke. 

Most of the wary birds sprang into the air, though sev- 
eral kicked about on the water. 

Cuthbert had eyes for only those in the act of escaping, 


A Memory of the Stampede. 103 

and with keen judgment he picked out a little knot that 
arose with swiftly-beating wings, to send his second load 
among them with continued disastrous effects. 

What result? 

Cuthbert smiled with satisfaction when he counted 
seven in all — ^five with their webbed toes turned up and 
two cripples. 

He had some little sport with these latter, and was 
compelled to expend five shells before he madfe way with 
one. 

The other escaped entirely. 

This was an old story with Cuthbert, who had many a 
time chased a cripple a mile in a boat, shooting at 
him again and again, only to have him escape in the 
rushes, or, perchance, when mortally wounded, dive to 
the bottom, seize hold of the eel grass with his bill, and 
stay there, as if to spite his destroyer. 

Six! well, that was very good — just twice the number 
Karl had asked for. 

Then a question arose. How was he to get the game, 
now that it had fallen before his gun? 

No doubt they would presently all float to that side of 
the open space nearest the creek below. The current 
would accomplish that part of the business, even if the 
wind failed. 

How far would the ice hold him ? 

Cuthbert made ready. 

First of all, he cut down a long, slender sapling with 
a crotch at the end, with which he hoped to pick the 
ducks up if he could ever get within reach of them. 

Then he tested the ice. 

A couple of dry splinters from a pine that had been 
riven by a lightning bolt afforded him some assistance. 

It was laborious enough, but what sportsman does not 


104 A Memory of the Stampede. 

enjoy this overcoming of all difficulties in the task of re- 
trieving his game? 

And finally the last duck was snatched from the water. 

Cuthbert looked around. 

The afternoon was not yet gone, though the sim had 
sunk pretty low in the west. 

Twice, while he retrieved the floating game, there bad 
been a whistle of wings, and several mallards dropped 
into the pond. 

Of course, his movements frightened the wary birds 
ofif again, but the fact that they kept coming In this way 
aroused his ambition. 

Why not make a blind on the bank with some brush, 
and lie in wait for another shot or two? 

The temptation was great. He knew he really ougiit 
to be on the way back to camp, so that the game might 
be prepared for supper. 

Human nature, however, is weak when the question of 
duty or pleasure arises. 

Cuthbert built the blind. 

It was quickly thrown together, with some hemlock 
browse for his comfort in kneeling. 

Then he waited. 

This was quite like old times. 

Never had he dreamed he would be doing this sort of 
thing away in the heart of the Northwestern wilderness. 

He had not long to wait, for the ducks seemed to par- 
ticularly fancy this open sheet of water. 

A whistle of wings brought Cuthbert to the ready, 
though he remained perfectly motionless, with the sa- 
gacity of an old wild fowler. 

The ducks, four in number, circled high over the pond, 
saw nothing suspicious, made another sweep, then came 
down and set their wings to drop at about the center. 

It was then he fired, and one bird fell. 


A Memory of the Stampede. 105 

The others just touched the water, and were bound- 
ing up like rubber balls when Cuthbert again let drive. 

A second bird dropped with a splash while another 
steered a diagonal line for the earth, and struck the bank 
with a thud that was particularly pleasing to the ear of 
an enthusiastic sportsman. 

This was wholesale business. 

He waited yet awhile, and was rewarded by the ap- 
pearance of a single bird. The marshes were frozen up, 
and, of necessity, these tardy water fowl were compelled 
to seek the open pond, ere again starting on their migra- 
tion to the Texan sea coast. 

It took two shots to bag this fellow of the swift wing. 
He became suspicious ere settling, and was 'heading off 
when Cuthbert arose and opened his batteries upon him. 

The second shot was at exceedingly long range, but, 
thanks to the size of the pellets he used, it brought the 
greenhead down like a plummet in the way that makes 
the heart glad. 

This was surely enough. 

By the time he had retrieved these fellows the day 
was done. 

Besides, Cuthbert became conscious of the fact that it 
was cold work here by the water, with ice and snow all 
around. 

His fingers and toes felt it, for one needs to be well 
prepared against chill while lying motionless in a duck 
blind. 

There was half a mile to tramp, and almost a round 
dozen birds — no light weight, by any means — so that 
Cuthbert soon felt his circulation restored, save in his 
fingers, he having forgotten his woolen gloves. 

Many hands made light work, and three of the mallards 
were soon baking in the patent folding oven that had 


io6 A Memory of the Stampede. 

been brought along, so that they might not be without 
an occasional feast of hot bread during the winter. 

Old Sile prided himself on his knowledge of cookery. 
Of course, a domestic chef might have turned up his 
nose at his manner of accomplishing things, but it was 
done after camp rules, and the result could not have been 
improved upon, anyway — so the boys had many times 
declared. 

Those savory ducks filled the dugout with their frag- 
rance whenever Sile opened the oven door to baste them 
with gravy. 

On such occasions, the boys would groan, and Cuth- 
bert even ran outdoors to walk up and down, as though 
unable to stand it. 

At last the reveille of the range — that summons to din- 
ner with a knife rattling on a tin saucepan — announced 
the feast ready. 

They ate like starving men — like castaways just res- 
cued from a drifting yawl. 

Not a word was said for at least ten minutes, and then 
Cuthbert cast a wishful eye toward the bunch of wild 
fowl, as though he actually regretted their lack of wis- 
dom in supplying but one apiece. 

This set Karl to laughing, and, the ice being broken, 
conversation ensued. 

Cuthbert managed to stay his appetite after the duck’s 
bones had been polished clean, with some venison steak, 
baked potatoes, bread and butter galore, and several 
cups of coffee, taken clear because they had no milk. 

“This is solid comfort,” he declared, when finally he 
was forced to stop, much to the relief of his comrades, 
who began to fear lest their provisions would never hold 
out at such a rate. 

“Yes, duck hunting is hungry work,” remarked Old 
Sile, calmly smoking. 


A Memory of the Stampede. 107 

He was not a hearty eater, and preferred his pipe 
above all things ; but the boys were lusty young cubs and 
growing apace, so that they needed frequent stuffing. 

“Well, I think I had three good meals the night I spent 
alone in the timber,*’ said Karl. 

“Yes ; a cold snap makes one keen, and, besides, a man 
eats to pass away time under such conditions. It’s a 
tedious job, I declar to Moses, a stayin’ up all night, an’ 
I’ve done it many a time, too.” 

“What was your worst experience of all? When did 
you wish most to see daylight?” asked Cuthbert, lying 
back at his ease after the manner of one who had dined 
well and whom nothing could harm. 

Old Sile, sitting cross-legged, like a Turk, by the fire, 
sent a few whiffs of tobacco smoke drifting upward. 

He had one eye shut and seemed to be taking a retro- 
spective glance along his past life, as though bent upon 
weighing the desperate chances he had many times run, 

“Wall, I reckon of all the bad nights in my experience 
thar don’t any o’ ’em come up to the time o’ the big 
stampede.” 

The boys pricked up their ears, for anything that 
savored of cowboy life interested them intensely. They, 
too, knew what an ordinary stampede meant. They had 
seen the long-horned cattle crazed with fright — ^“bellow- 
ing mad,” as the boys called it — and there had been ru- 
mors in camp among the riders of Sunset Ranch that Old 
Sile had had an experience in that line which stood un- 
equaled among the annals of cattle hustlers. 

And now it was coming, in his own terse, quaint way, 
to be sure, but imagination could supply the missing 
links, and paint it all with the glow of inspiration. 

There was no way in which the veteran could be hur- 
ried. In all other things he was quick and active, up to 


io8 A Memory of the Stampede. 

the top notch, but, when it came to speech, molasses in 
winter could hardly be more sluggish. 

'‘It was quite some years back, and I was more spry 
than I am now. No man on the range could beat me 
with boss and rope, and whenever thar was a particular 
piece o' work to be done the boss called on Sile Wegg. 

“I thought I knowed what a stampede was like. Had 
been through a dozen, mebbc ; but, I declar to Moses ! if 
the hull pesky lot were rolled in one it couldn’t beat that 
night. 

“Jerusalem! I never seed the ekal o’ it! The storm 
broke as though the hull bottom o’ the sky meant to fall 
out, the lightning whizzed and the thunder crashed just 
like a battle was on — an’ I’ve been in some hot ones durin’ 
Grant’s campaign on the Mississip. 

“I never seed cattle so uneasy like when the storm was 
a cornin’ boomin’ up over the prairie. ’Twas all we could 
do to keep ’em in the rope corral, ’cause, ye see, thar was 
goin’ to be some shippin’ done the next day ; that is, the 
boss rancher calculated on it, but he was away off,” with 
a chuckle. 

“Gee whiz ! when the time come around to ship, them 
cattle was scattered twenty mile in every direction, some 
done up on the ground, others still running with their 
tails up on end and foamin’ at the mouth. 

“Such fire and brimstone I hope I may never see agin. 
Why, the air was actually charged with electricity that 
sikooted this way an’ that like fiery balls, and bustin’ with 
a report that sounded like the end of the world had come. 

“You boys know what effect an electric storm has on 
cattle. Wall, this was a dozen such storms rolled into 
one ! 

“They went stark starin’ crazy, an’ we could no more 
hold ’em than we could a harricane. We shouted an’ 
rode an’ did everything known to cowboy craft to direct 


A Memory of the Stampede. 109 

their attention from the storm to us, but it wouldn’t work 
wuth a cent. 

“Through the ropes they busted, and I found myself in 
the middle of the hull mob o’ crazy cattle, carried away 
with the stampede.” 

He drew a long puff at his pipe and watched the blue 
coils of smoke curling upward, as though in that haze 
he could see visions of the past. 

The boys had been concerned in stampedes of all sorts, 
and they could readily imagine the danger of being 
caught in the very midst of a bellowing, fear-maddened 
rush of cattle, such as Old Sile described. 

“Thar was nothin’ to be done, I seen, but keep my boss 
on bis legs, and go with the crowd, avoiding’ them long 
horns as well as I could'. 

“I reckon I’ll never forgit that ere gallop, if I live to 
a good hundred, with the rattle o’ thunder in my ears and 
the etarnal flash o’ lightnin’ in my eyes. 

“The cattle seemed to huddle more or less in a heap, as 
though thar might be safety in numbers, which was jest 
the thing I didn’t want, ’cause, ye see, if they scattered. 
I’d soon have got clear o’ the press. 

“I had the smartest cayuse on the range, an’ I honestly 
believe only for that I’d; a gone under quick enough, to 
be trampled into a pancake. 

“That pony knowed heaps, and managed to slip 
through openings that T never even saw. The lightnin’ 
was so dazzlin’ I felt like my eyes was burned out, an’ 
all I could make o’ it was a horrible jumble o’ horned 
heads crashin’ together, and tails up on end, jest like 
the nightmare fer a fact. 

“Thar I was, and’ ye kin imagine what I put through 
in them five or more miles. 

“By good luck, the broncho, by twistin’ an’ turnin’ 


no A Memory of the Stampede. 

jest to avoid the squeeze, managed to work near one o’ 
the flanks. 

'‘I seed the stream o’ crazy cattle was gettin’ thinner 
on the left, an’, with a new hope, began to press my way 
in that quarter. Of course, I shouted at the top o’ my 
voice, but they never paid the least attention to me, and I 
reckon my whoop was like an angel’s whisper, with all 
that din of a thousand* crackin’ hoofs and the awful, con- 
stant boom of thunder that sounded like Gabriel’s trump 
had marked the bustin’ up o’ the universe. 

“But now thar was a prospect o’ gettin’ rid o’ that 
whirlwind o’ horns an’ hoofs, so I began to use my eyes 
for all they was wuth. 

“Twice I found myself in a pocket, with handsome 
chances o’ bein’ squeezed, but both times I crawled out — 
my boss saved me the fust time, by plungin’ through a 
narrow openin’ that closed solid after us, an’ when the 
thing happened again, I used my gun on the beast that 
seemed to be the keystone o’ the hull affair, droppin’ him 
in his tracks, so that he tumbled some others in a heap, 
an’ left me a chance to change my base. 

“That was the last bit of maneuverin’ I had to do, for 
my boss darted out o’ the pack afore it could close again, 
an’ I had a clear field once more. 

“The last I seen o’ the herd as they swept along was 
them waving horns an’ tails cavortin’ over the perairie in 
a tangled mass, with the fiery bolts darting zigzag 
through the air and (the bellowin’ thunder makin’ the very 
airth tremble. 

“They went twenty mile, and it took us jest a week to 
corral the beasts again. Some we never found, an’ I’ve 
often wondered since that night if the pesky critters 
wasn’t a-runnin’ yet,” and Old Sile wound up with one of 
his peculiar yet expressive chuckles. 


CHAPTER IX. 


WINTER IN THE WILDERNESS. 

Winter had at last set in. 

Old Sile, who knew this country like, a book, and was 
pretty much of a weather prophet, declared that they 
would see no more open spells for some months to come. 

Every preparation had been made for just such severe 
weather, and, as the sport was what they had come after, 
the boys uttered no word of complaint. 

Frozen hard was the creek. 

Even Cutbert’s pond had a solid coating of ice, and 
the ducks came no longer to their favorite hole to prune 
themselves in the sunshine and dig up the wild rice grow- 
ing there. 

But there were other things to engage the attention 
of the young fur gatherers. 

With this coming of snow, it was possible to see the 
tracks of the various animals, both large and small, that 
abounded in Paradise Valley. 

Besides, the frosty air gave these beasts a keen appetite 
which it was difficult to satisfy; and, consequently, they 
were not near so chary about walking into a irap as 
when food was more plentiful. 

The great pine woods at times took on a wonderful 
appearance, when a wet snow had fallen that clung 
wherever it touched. 

Then it was like fairyland, every branch and twig look- 
ing like the veins of a vast cobweb, whitened by a ma- 
gician’s wand until they sparkled in the morning sun 
like a vast multitude of diamonds suspended aloft. 

Cuthbert was more or less inclined to be poetical. At 


12 


Winter in the Wilderness. 


least, he had an artistic eye, and delighted in just such 
wonderful pictures. 

Karl, more practical, thought of how such a packed 
snowfall would affect the hunting. 

And yet, in his way, Karl loved to commune with Na- 
ture. There was a spirit within his being that had, many 
a time, caused him to sit up at night listening to the weird 
voices of prairie or forest, or which held him speHbound 
with admiration when the setting sun painted the fleeting 
clouds a gorgeous glow. 

With one it was partly a matter of education, while 
the prairie boy had only instinct and natural love for 
nature to arouse him. 

Success seemed to attend their labors. 

Some days were better than others, but on the whole 
the veteran declared the traps were yielding a goodly 
harvest, considering how times had changed, and what 
inroads had been made upon the stock of game since 
the days when he used to go trapping in such famous 
company. 

As the weather became more bitter they realized the 
truth of what Old Sile had prophesied regarding the good 
qualities of a dugout. 

They had no difficulty about keeping warm. 

After a long and exhausting tramp, either to look after 
the traps or in search of game, it was a blessed thing 
to approach their camp in the shiver of nightfall, and 
see that friendly glow through the one window ; to antici- 
pate the genial warmth awaiting the tired pilgrim beyond 
the homely portal, and perchance to catch the delightful 
aroma of a supper fit for even a crowned head, which 
would be served as soon as the wanderer had thawed out 
before the blazing hearth. 

Ah, yes! home was a haven indeed, and well did the 


Winter in the Wilderness. 113 

poet, far away across the sea, an exile from his native 
land, sing ; 

“Be it ever so humble, 

There’s no place like home.” 

Around that same blazing fire later in the evening, 
the three comrades would gather, perchance to relate 
some queer experience that had happened on that same 
d'ay, or which recalled an adventure of the past ; to speak 
of dear old Sunset Ranch and the happy days spent on 
the range; of the Indian village, where Cuthbert had 
been a prisoner, adopted into the tribe in place of the boy 
whom dread disease had stolen from the chief; or, it 
might be the time when they chased into the Bad Lands 
in pursuit of this same Caleb Cross and his fellows, into 
whose hands Cuthbert’s little sister, the sunbeam of the 
ranch had once fallen. 

Old Siile would sit there on a bearskin with his back 
propped up against the wall, sending his fragrant smoke 
in rings toward the big, yawning chimney that was con- 
nected with the old stump above, and into which the 
draft drew almost every fragrant of those circling coils. 

It was also a usual thing for one of the boys to open 
the door connecting with the little cave where the cubs 
lived, and in would come tumbling Rags and Tatters, 
full of the very old Nick, ready for a frolic. 

They had long since become quite at home with their 
human comrades, and exhibited not the least sign of 
fear. 

Some of their antics were very laughable, and from the 
time of their entry until their exit they kept the house 
in an uproar. 

They soon began to develop the traits that were to 
govern their future, and the boys discovered how differ- 
ent two cubs might be in disposition, even when they were 
by nature perfect duplicates. 


Winter in the Wilderness. 


1 14 

Rags was the easier to manage, his brother having 
quite a fierce temper, so that it was generally poor Tat- 
ters, who received a sound box on the ear for being a 
little too demionstrative in his rough play with the boys. 

The life was never monotonous. 

New things seemed constantly occurring, or were be- 
ing discussed. 

Old Sile had many surprises for the youngsters. 

The first thing he did was to teach them how to use 
the snowshoes. 

Even Karl was green at this, his life having been al- 
most wholly spent upon the cattle ranges, where a mount 
is depended on in stormy weather. 

Cuthbert had alw^ays wanted to have a try at this sort 
of thing, and he went at it with a vim that promised 
great success. 

Brought up in Virginia, where the snow seldom stays 
on the ground long enough to use a sleigh, he had been 
debarred from such healthy sports as come in the way of 
boys living in Vermont, Maine or Canada. 

And when, later on, the snow would be several feet 
deep on the level, they would have found it impossible to 
have visited their traps or gone about in search of game 
but for these same indispensable snowshoes. 

There did not seem to be any danger of their being 
without fresh meat for a long time. 

All they had to do was to travel out to the “stock 
yards,” as Cuthbert called it, shoot an elk, and bring him 
in, or, rather, the choice portions best suited for their 
needs. 

It was Cuthbert who first discovered the herd of elk. 

They had made what is known as a “yard,” just as 
moose in Canada do, tramping down the snow under the 
trees in a certain quarter, and living upon the tender twigs 
which could be reached. 


Winter in the Wilderness. 


115 

Old Sile explained the whole thing to the boys. 

He was delighted with the find, and declared that, if 
they were reasonably careful not to alarm the game too 
much, they might secure many a quarter of fresh meat 
from that yard. 

The wolves haunted the place in vast numbers, drawn, 
no doubt, by the presence of their natural quarry, and 
the feast which the boys left behind every time a killing 
took place. 

Sooner or later as the winter wore on and these ani- 
mals grew bolder with hunger, they would have trouble 
with these “varmints,” and for that reason especially Old 
Sile insisted on their always carrying an extra supply of 
ammunition in their belts, as well as full magazines. 

Karl had found another bonanza. 

Chopping a hole through the ice in the pond, he had 
been enabled to take some trout, spearing them somewhat 
after the fashion of those who take pickerel or lake white- 
fish during the period of winter. 

This was a welcome addition to their fare, and always 
greedily anticipated. 

Even Rags and Tatters took keen pleasure in squab- 
bling over the bones when Karl’s luck had been of the 
buoyant order. 

Birds were scarce in numibers; at least, anything that 
might serve as food. 

Owls were to be heard every night, hooting from some 
deadwood tree near by; hawks sailed over the snoiwy 
water at times, on the keen scent for food, and once Karl 
saw a majestic bald-headed eagle that might have 
stretched seven feet from tip to tip of his wings. 

He might have shot the great bird, as it alighted on 
the top of a dead pine, close to where he was working 
with a red fox taken in a trap, but he smothered the 
temptation as something bordering on sacrilege. 


ii6 Winter in the Wilderness. 

True, the bird was a bold robber, and would sooner lie 
in wait for a fishhawk to snatch his prey than to drop 
down himself to do the work ; but, all the same, the great 
American people had chosen to stamp him with all the 
noble qualities he was at one time supposed to possess, 
and given him an artificial endowment, and for that rea- 
son he should be exempt from the fate that usually be- 
falls such piratical craft. 

So he sailed away in safety, uttering a discordant 
scream as he 'wemt, whether in mockery at Karl’s tender- 
heartedness or in thanks, bird fashion, the boy never 
knew. 

There were crows, too. 

They flew over at daybreak and back again before 
evening came. 

Old Sile said they had a rookery away back in the 
mountains. He had once paid a visit to the place, and 
found as dismal and weird a spectacle as one might ex- 
pect to discover in the swamps of Louisiana or Florida. 

Where they went to feed he had no idea, but it was 
probably many miles away, to some river that was not 
in the grasp of the Ice King, and in the current of which 
they found some species of food, not very fattening, per- 
haps, but enough to ward off starvation. 

Then it was possible they knew of timber where some 
species of berry grew, for these birds are exceedingly 
keen on the scent of anything that promises a prospect of 
food. 

By degrees their accumulation of pelts began to cover 
quite a wide range. 

Indeed, Old Sile said they had secured several animals 
which he had not obtained before in this favored region. 

There were the grizzly skins, that of the panther, of 
many bobcats and wolves, foxes, coyotes, badger, wolver- 


Winter in the Wilderness. 


117 

ine, beaver, raccoons and muskrats, besides the skins of 
the elk and deer that were used for food. 

Karl had a great time with some otter that inhabited a 
series of underground galleries among the rocks bor- 
dering the creek. 

Very cunning indeed were the slender animals, for a 
long time defying his keenest endeavors, until in despair 
he appealed to Caesar, and Ole Sile, out of the abundance 
of his knowledge, told him how to arrange things so that 
the suspicions of the animals would be quieted. 

And so he captured them, one by one, but it took pretty 
much the whole winter to accomplish the entire job, and 
when the last one was bagged Karl thought he deserved 
great credit. 

Under the tutelage of Old' Sile the boys had soon 
learned that most particular part of a successful trapper’s 
business, curing the pelts that were taken. 

He always used boards to stretch the skins upon^ and 
a liberal supply of thin pine had been brought qlong for 
this purpose. 

With most animals the skin was cut open underneath 
from head to tail, and great care was taken not to stretch 
it too tight. The skins were dried in the air, never at a 
fire or in the sun, nor would Old Sile use salt, alum or 
any other agent in curing, declaring his belief that the 
quality of the skin deteriorated under such a barbarous 
process, which was fit only for the hides of cattle intended 
for leather. 

Muskrats had to be ''cased,” not cut open, and the fur 
|ide turned in. 

There were a great many of these along the creek, and 
the boys had great success in trapping them at certain 
places. 

Many times they could have shot the fur-bearing ani- 
mals whose pelts they envied, but Old Sile had put a veto 


n8 Winter in the Wilderness. 

upon this method, declaring' that such skins were often 
valueless on account of the holes torn in themi 

They had not forgotten Caleb Cross. 

Something within seemed to tell them that the schem- 
ing rascal would show up again, but in all probability not 
before spring. 

Such thieves, before raiding a camp, always like to 
wait until the industrious trapper has laid by a goodly 
stock of furs. 

Doubtless Cross had participated in more than one 
caittle foray in Texas, whence he had drifted north, driv- 
ing the stolen herds across the border into Mexico, where 
their identity could not be proven, the marks having been 
rebranded, and hence a raid on a trapper’s camp would 
be quite in his line. 

Old Sile never forgot. 

He was always on the watch for the return of the des- 
peradoes, whom h-e expected to come in augmented num- 
bers, though he also rested under the belief that there 
was little danger of their showing up until winter was 
close upon its dying gasp. 

Familiarity with the entire region soon made the boys 
feel quite at home. 

They had ventured on extended hunts, generally on 
their snowshoes and together. 

Thus they avoided trouble to a great degree, and if it 
did descend upon them it was the more easily borne be- 
cause of company. 

One experience came upon them that certainly deserves 
passing mention, for it proved to be something they 
would not soon forget. 

During an extended hunt a sudden change in the 
weather took place. 

The sky clouded, the wind became fearfully keen, and 


Winter in the Wilderness. 119 

experienced Karl knew they were in for a severe bliz- 
zard. 

To reach home was impossible, and it became neces- 
sary to meet the emergency. 

They worked with frantic eagerness to find fuel for a 
fire, but on this occasion conditions proved very unfavor- 
able. 

Their hope was to find a fallen tree, but, though sev- 
eral had been seen during the tramp, of course one was 
not forthcoming just when so greatly needed. 

A few branches, castaways, it seemed, were picked up, 
and camp made in the best location possible, where a 
clump of trees would protect them in some measure. 

The storm burst upon them with a violence Karl had 
never seen equaled. 

The wind fairly shrieked in demoniac glee, whirling 
the round pellets of hard snow through the air with such 
force that they stung like nettles wherever they struck 
the flesh. 

So filled was the air with fine snow dust that it was 
utterly impossible to see more than ten feet in any di- 
rection, and even Karl doubted his ability to guide the 
expedition safely back to camp again, so that he did not 
dare attempt the venture. 

Their fire burned feebly. 

They did not risk a wholesale blaze, on account of the 
scarcity of fuel. 

Had it been an ordinary storm, their work must have 
consisted in skirmishing around for other vagabond 
branches that might protrude out of the snow, but with 
♦ this dreadful blizzard in full swing they dared not go 
beyond sight of the little fire lest they lose themselves. 

Cuthbert discovered this paralyzing feature of the case, 
and nearly to his sorrow. 

In his ambition to augment the scanty supply of fuel. 


120 


Winter in the Wilderness. 


which would n'ever last out th'e long and dreadful night 
that stretched 'before them, he began to hunt around, now 
and again finding a treasure in a small way, until sud- 
denly he discovered that the fire was no longer to be 
seen. 

He was at once alarmed. 

Fortunately he did not begin to rush this way and 
that in an agony of fear, but immediately filled his young 
lungs and began to shout his comrade’s name. 

Karl, while busily engaged making a rude snowhouse 
shelter, heard a faint call that filled him with apprehen- 
sion, and for the first time noted the absence of his 
friend. 

He knew the cry came from leeward, and, first casting 
some fresh fuel on the fire to make as big a blaze as pos- 
sible, he ran a dozen steps into the storm and sent forth 
the cowboy shout that had rung over the level prairies 
many a time when refractory steers kicked over the traces 
and refused to be decently rounded up. 

It was a mercy Cuthbert had the cry borne to his ears 
by the favoring gale, and was able to tell whence it came. 

He groped through the blinding whirlwind, and pres- - 
ently, still guided by Karl’s voice, found his way back 
to the miserable little camp. 

When he tossed the armful of wood upon the fire and 
saw how quickly it was eaten up, the Virginia lad thought 
it the most dangerous prize he had ever drawn, since to 
obtain it he had imperiled his own life. 

Karl knew a trick or two, and, had their fuel only held 
out, he would have defied the elements. 

The snow was packed in the shape of a house, which 
served to keep the keenest edge of the driving gale away 
from them. 

Unfortunately, they had not shot any game on the 


Winter in the Wilderness. isi 

hunt, so that they were forced to go without supper on 
this night. 

Karl contrasted it with his former experience, and 
the result made him feel anything but joyful, for with 
plenty of wood and meat a man may laugh at fortune’s 
frowns, but wiithouit these comforts a Northwestern bliz- 
zard is apt to prove a very arduous task for the toughest 
of pilgrims, and many a man has never survived the trial 
trip. 

No wonder these rough riders of the wild west made 
ideal soldiers under Roosevelt and Wood. Accustomed 
all their lives to the most active life, in the saddle and out, 
meeting all manner of deadly dangers in their adventur- 
ous career as cowboys and range-riders, they were just 
the men to storm up San Juan Hill and utterly demoralize 
the Spaniards. 

That night — 'would either of the boys ever cease to 
remember it with a shudder? 

Though they used their fuel as sparingly as possible, it 
was at length gone. 

Cuthbert looked at his watch with the departing flicker 
of the very last handful, and was dismayed to find that 
it was only one o’clock. 

Six hours more before morning ! 

How were they to keep from freezing during that ter- 
rible vigil? 

Karl knew what depended on him, and was grimly re- 
solved to do everything in his power to save their lives. 

The fact that Cuthbert was with him served as an ad- 
ditional incentive. 

He showed the other how to slap his arms when his 
fingers became cold, thus inducing a new fl'ow of blood. 

It served for a time, but Cuthbert grew weary of the 
incessant repetition. 

"‘What’s the use?” he said, a little petulantly. “I’m 


122 Winter in the Wilderness. 

quite warm now. If I feel cold again, why, I’ll start 
in.” 

Karl could not see him distinctly, though the night 
was not absolutely dark, because of the vast white shroud 
covering the face of the earth. 

Alt the s'aime time a terrible fear gnawed at his heart 
that his chum:, for whom he would have laid down his 
very life, if necessary, was on the point of freezing, and 
knew it not. 

Desperate cases like this require remedies of the same 
order. 

Karl quickly made up his mind that something must 
be done to keep Cuthbert awake, even if he quarreled 
with him and they entered into a rough-and-tumble 
fight. 

There were many ways by means of which this thing 
could be accomplished. Karl cudgeled his brains to re- 
miember the stories of a tragic nature which he had heard 
old Michigan lumbermen tell, by means of which life had 
been preserved. 

In one instance he recollected it had been done by 
actually whipping the freezing man with canes, thus in- 
ducing circulation, even while he cried out in protest and 
begged them to let him have just a few minutes^ sleep. 
He would never have awakened more in this world had 
they foolishly granted his request. 

Perhaps Cuthbert might still listen to reason and agree 
to terms, realizing that his comrade knew more about 
these things than himself. 

To this task Karl set himself. 

He argued the matter over eagerly, knowing how 
great the stakes were for which he contended. Human 
life is worth a struggle, especially when it is that of a 
friend who has been one’s second self through thick and 
thin. 


Winter in the Wilderness. 


123 

Cu'tbbert was disposed to doubt and scoff a little, 
whereupon Karl narrated several instances where heroic 
measures had to be taken in ord-er to save life. 

He thought he had convinced the other, whose objec- 
tions had gradually become less vehement, until they 
finally ceased entirely. 

When Karl saw his head drop forward a horrible sen- 
sation of fear almost overwhelmed the lad, for he realized 
that it had gone even further than he suspected — 'that 
Cuthbert was actually on the point of sinking into that 
fatal slumber preceding death. 

Evidently he must be saved against his will. 

Karl pounced upon him and shook him. 

‘'Oh ! let me alone, old fellow, do now ! I’m all right 
— nothing the matter — ^warm as toast and awful sleepy, 
Karl.” 

His voice died away in a drawl. 

Karl then proceeded to arouse him by slapping him 
right and left, and this rude treatment brought the other 
to time. 

He fought back, hardly knowing what he was doing or 
whom he assaulted, and Karl was forced to take quite a 
few stinging blows in the best of good nature, for he 
realized that his benevolent intentions were being carried 
out. 

By degrees Cuthbert realized his position and was in- 
duced to take some exercise. 

Thus an hour passed. 

Then he reached the tired and sleepy stage again, and 
it had to be gone over once more from beginning to end. 

The prospect 'would have appalled many a stout man, 
but Karl was so constituted by Nature that he would 
never give up until the last gasp. 

He pummeled his friend right lustily, and soon aroused 


Winter in the Wilderness. 


124 

the dormant pugnacity oi the hot-hloodied Virginian, so 
that they had a regular old-fashioned fight then and there. 

Again was Cuthbert saved. 

And a second hour dragged by. 

The blizzard still raged as fiercely as ever. 

Karl had not lost an iota of his determination to save 
his chum if it lay within the bounds of human possibility. 

When Cuthbert refused to fight and acknowledged him- 
self whipped with the charming frankness that so be- 
comes a true Southern gentleman, Karl seized upon the 
canes or branches which he had secured and proceeded 
to lay it on well and good. 

So the long, dreadful night passed. 

What hope was there ? 

These blizzards sometimes last for days, and one has 
been known to hang on a week, gathering new force with 
the coming of a second storm. 

Karl had about lost all hope when the gray dawn 
came. 

That he kept up the fight was simply because of his 
stubborn nature hating to acknowledge defeat. 

Day brought little relief. 

Karl might have secured some wood, but he dared not 
leave Cuthbert even that long. 

Again and again he discharged three shots. 

It would be almost a miracle if Old Sile heard the 
signal. 

Yet he did. Heaven was kind and drifted him in that 
quarter j ust in time. 

When the big fellow came upon the snow camp he dis- 
covered Katl whipping his chum with shreds of branches, 
while Cuthbert now and again would attempt to retaliate. 

Olid Sile quickly found enough fuel for a roaring fire 
which 'would last long enough to thaw out the two half- 
dead lads. 


Winter in the Wilderness, 125 

How he got them home through that awful storm 
even Karl never fully knew. 

He rememibered tramping and stumbling along; then, 
when he had fallen, he felt himself picked up and actually 
‘^toted’^ by some friendly giant. 

And' thus they came home. 

Never had the dugout seemied such a blessed haven as 
then. 

Of course, the boys were for dropping upon the floor 
and going to sleep, but Old Sile insisted on examiining 
hands, feet and ears to discover whether it would be 
necessary to rub a frosted member with snow. 

By this time he bad a pot of soup warmed. 

The boys would have rather been allowed to seek their 
bunks, overcome by the delicious warmth of the place 
that made them more drowsy than ever, but again Old 
Sile insisted on their each drinking a bowl of the strength- 
ening soup. 

They hardly dropped in their bunks ere they were 
sound asleep. 

There they remained until evening, when they awoke 
in time for supper, remaining up to relate their dread 
experience, and then once more seeking the com'fortable 
beds, made of fragrant hemlock browse covered with a 
blanket. 

The last sounds Karl heard were the shrieking voices 
of the blizzard without, complaining because its ex- 
pected victims had been snatched away at almost the last 
minute. 


CHAPTER X. 


THE GAEEANT OLD ELK AT BAY. 

It took the boys fully a -week to recover from the 
effects of their adventure. 

Their bodies were stiff and sore and bore many a black 
and blue mark, mute witnesses to the desperation with 
which gallant Karl grappled with the grim monster and 
fought for the very life of his chum. 

He said little of this to Cuthbert, but Old Sile drew 
the whole terrible story from him by degrees, and was 
not slow to let Cuthbert know, such was the veteran’s 
unbounded admiration for the lad who could fight with 
his friend and lash him with withes for five blessed hours 
in order to save him in spite of himself. 

And Cuthbert could not rest, like the whole-souled, 
generous fellow that he was, until he had thrown his 
arms about Karl and thanked him for the life he had 
saved. 

The incident that bordered so closely on the line, of 
tragedy served to draw the two boys more closely to- 
gether than ever. 

By 'degrees they reicovered from the experiences of that 
blizzard night, and took up their share of the burdens. 

Old Sile had been visiting the traps every few days, 
but there were not many pelts taken during the preva- 
lencie of that bitter spell. 

The evenings were, as before, times of keen enjoy- 
ment, when they gathered after the various duties of the 
day, had a Toyal supper, and sat around taking it easy, 
relating experiences or laughing at Rags’ and Tatters’ 
gambols. 


127 


The Gallant Old Elk at Bay. 

Old Sile had been down in Mexico a few years back, 
seeing the country and working on a cattle ranch there, 
•so that the boys found he was in a fairly good position to 
tell them something about that wonderful country of the 
old Montezumas. 

Karl had heard many strange stories, while his chum 
had read interesting accounts of life in that favored re- 
gion, so that when all took a hand in exploiting the fact, 
a pretty fair idea was formed as to what awaited them 
when they made their pilgrimage over the border. 

With the return of a Httle milder weather the old 
sportsman spirit aroused within the boys again. 

They went on a hunt. 

There were still some sections which had not been fully 
investigated, and with that ambitious nature so charac- 
teristic of young America, they longed to explore. 

Just as Old Sile had predicted, the severe weather was 
making the wolves very bold, and frequently some gaunt 
chap would get out of their way very grudgingly, as 
though tempted to assault them. 

More than one gray pirate paid the penalty of hiS 
rashness, buit the supply seemed to be literally inexhaust- 
ible, and, as Ole Sile declared in disgust, when finding 
the remains of a valuable fox about his trap, “the woods 
are full o’ the pesky critters.” 

Of course, their experience with the blizzard bad 
taught the boys one lesson. 

They would not be caught on a long tramp without 
dried meat, and some coffee in a small pot that could 
easily be carried, besides a full supply of matches and 
ammunition, together with a keen-edged hatchet. 

Had they possessed this latter, much of their misery 
and suffering might have been avoided, since it would 
have been possible to have supplied themselves by hard 
work 'with fuel for the fire. 


128 The Gallant Old Elk at Bay. 

The eilk yard still held forth, much to the surprise of 
Oid Sile, who declared he had no idea the animals would 
hang on to the place when from time to time the camp- 
ers took such regular toll from the diminishing band. 

Somehow both Karl and his chum had grown to detest 
shooting one of the imprisoned elk, unless food was 
urgently demanded. 

It seemed much like butchery, since the poor animals 
had so little show, surrounded by that great wall of snow. 

Out in the open, where the woods stretched free around 
him, and there was a chance to make flight, it was quite 
a different matter to hunt a lordly elk. 

Many a time had the boys picked up a fresh trail, and, 
mounted on their snowshoes, set out in pursuit. 

Far away over the snowy landscape they glided with 
wonderful speed, sometimes to give over the chase as 
hopeless on account of passing time, and then again, may- 
hap, to come up with the old fellow floundering through 
the drifts; when it required some good marksmanship to 
bring him to his knees. 

On one occasion the elk had charged, despite the 
fusilade they poured in upon him, and it was Cuthbert’s 
fate to stumble while endeavoring to wildly spring out of 
the way, thanks to the breaking of a string connecting his 
foot with one of his snowishoes. 

Before he could recover himself the beast had charged 
him. 

The boy had sense enough to grasp his horns and hold 
on desperately. 

This saved him oonsiderable damage, for the elk was 
more than knee-<deep in the drift, and, while a powerful 
beast, could not find the means to exert himself fully 
while this burden dangled from his head like an incubus. 

Had Cuthbert been alone he might have had serious 
trouble about that time. 



The boys were much interested in the beaver dam, 




The Gallant Old Elk at Bay. 129 

Karl quickly discovered, however, that his chum had- 
been unable to beat as successful a retreat as himself, and 
immediately returned to the spot. 

Of course, it only took a single shot from- his gun at 
such close quarters to wind up the elk’s career. 

Cuthbert was pleased to let go. He had never taken 
hold of anything that he was so glad to lose again. 

On another occasion quite a different adventure befell 
the two hunters. 

This time the elk was a game old fellow whom they 
had twice hunted and lost, even after he bad been 
wounded. 

They knew his tracks through some peculiarity and 
were rather pleased at the opportunity to be in touch 
with the clever old rogue again, for it is a trick of human 
nature to greatly desire those things that are the hard- 
est to get. 

Any day they chose, at this time in question, they 
could have -secured an elk by simply going to the yard 
where the balance -of the band still held the fort ; but they 
would rather tramp ten miles after this one lone fellow, 
who for some reason refused to stay with the rest. 

The spirit of true sportsmen always runs in this same 
channel, seeking to lure the wild and suspicious trout in 
his isolated haunts, rather than the well-fed product of a 
preserve. 

When the boys had followed this big buck a little while 
they saw traces of blood upon the snow. 

The animal had been wounded. There was a crust 
upon the surface of the snow, which readily sustained 
the hunters because o-f the broad foundation afforded by 
their snowshoes. 

It served the heavy elk much poorer, for he broke 
through at every jump, cutting his limbs badly. 


130 The Gallant Old Elk at Bay. 

Undoubtedily this was the fated day when they were to 
secure their game. 

So they sped along through forest aisles and over the 
elevations, constantly gaining upon the object of their 
solicitude, as they readily understood from various signs 
well-known to those who had been brought up, like Karl, 
upon the prairie. 

It was about noon when Karl suddenly came to a halt 
and held up his hand. 

“Hark he said. 

And Cuthibert, listening, heard strange sounds from 
just beyond a thick fringe of brush, sounds that unmis- 
takably indicated a combat of some sort. 

There were snorts and yelps, together with a threshing, 
followed by a dull thud, and then more yelps. 

“What under the sun can it be?’' asked Cutbbert, un- 
able to make it all out. 

“I think I can guess,” smiled Karl, nodding, as a 
fresh series of yelps, louder than before, and indicative of 
pain, came to their ears. 

“That sounds like dogs with a bear; but there are no 
dogs^ — perhaps it’s wolves.” 

“Yes, wolves, and the old chap we have followed so 
far is at bay.” 

A light broke upon Cutbbert. 

“Battling for his life against those rascals 1 I can 
sympathize with the brave old fellow. But come, let’s see 
what is going on.” 

He had not forgotten his experience on the open 
prairie, at the time Karl first made his acquaintance, 
when so sorely beset by the hungry creatures. That 
memory must always follow him. 

When they had pushed through the brush a strange 
panorama presented itself to their view. 

There was the elk at bay, torn in many places where 


The Gallant Old Elk at Bay. 131 

the keen teeth of his tormientors had fastened upon him, 
weakened by his gallant fight, yet with his spirit under- 
mined, shaking bis massive horns and meeting each as- 
sault as best he could. 

It was not altogether a one-sided battle. 

Several wolves lay stretched out upon the trampled 
snow, already dyed in places by their blood, and others 
were limping about in a very suggestive manner. 

They were shrewd enough to avoid the brave old fel- 
low’s battle front, and make their assault upon his 
flanks. 

Of course, he was doomed. It could be only a ques- 
tion of time when he must fall. 

Somehow the hopeless condition of the. elk appealed to 
the boy’s chivalrous nature. 

They never saw anything decent about a wolf under 
the most favorable conditions, and just then he appeared 
at his worst. 

So they looked at each other. 

“Shall we lay a few out ?” said the expression on Karl’s 
face, and Cuthbert’s answering look indicated that he 
never knew the time when he was averse to knocking 
wolves on the head. 

Accordingly, they took a hand in the unequal combat, 
and it was wonderful what consternation their coming 
had upon the cowardly beasts, only made desperate by 
force of numbers and the fact that hunger forced them 
to the wall. 

The repeating rifles were able to give a good account 
of themselves before the scampering, demoralized wolves 
could get beyond range. 

“Hurrah !” cried Cuthbert, mentally adding a few nicks 
to the score he was keeping to balance that old account. 

Seven lay there, some quite still, others kicking their 


132 The Gallant Old Elk at Bay. 

last. Two of these the game old elk could account for, 
but the rest were their quarry. 

Somehow it did Cuthbert an immense amount of good 
to bring that old account nearer even, although he be- 
lieved he could never fully wipe it out, try as he would. 

“Look out !” cried Karl, suddenly. 

Bless you, if the battered old elk hadn’t charged, unable 
to realize that his life had been saved by the coming of 
these hunters and the good work done by their guns. 

There was nothing left to Karl but to fling up his gun 
and down the old chap with a center shot, as neatly done 
as Old Sile would have wished. 

“I declare ! to think of him charging us !” cried Cuth- 
bert, in mingled surprise and chagrin at what he was 
disposed to look upon as base ingratitude. 

Karl laughed. 

“Unfortunately the poor old fellow is not given the 
power of recognizing what a helping hand we loaned him. 
He looked upon us simply in the light of what we have 
always been, his mortal foes. Why, doesn’t he bear the 
scar of the wound you gave him ? Well, since the wolves 
left him in such a hurry, he thought he’d have a go at 
us while the fight was on.” 

“I suppose he was flushed with pride and thought he 
had chased the critters off.” 

“Very probably so.” 

“That was a clean score, Karl,” bending down to see 
where the lead went home. 

“I never made a better shot, and hope I may be able 
to repeat it again.” 

“Too bad.” 

“What is?” 

“That he forced our hand and compelled us to shoot 
him. The brave old fellow deserved to live after putting 
up such a game fight.” 


The Gallant Old Elk at Bay. 133 

*‘He certainly did, but I reckon it wouldn’t have made 
much difference.” 

“What d’ye mean, Karl?” 

“We should have been in mercy compelled to finish 
him. Look how he has been torn. Weakened by loss of 
blood, he would never have escaped from those savage 
wolves. They will follow a wounded stag for a week if 
necessary, but are dead certain to pull him at last.” 

“I guess you’re right, Karl. You always are; but, all 
the same, I’m sorry he couldn’t have lived. That was a 
glorious sight to remember. I’ve seen it on paper more 
than once, but the actual reality far surpasses the best 
steel engraving ever printed.” 

That feeling of honoring a worthy foe was nothing 
to be ashamed of, and did Cuthbert’s chivalrous nature 
great credit. It stamped him a true Southerner in the 
best sense of that word. 

Wolfskins were getting to be quite numerous in their 
collection, but Cuthberit secretly had an idea they could 
never manage to secure too many of these trophies of the 
chase. Indeed, he was quite insatiable in this regard. 

The old elk was a pretty tough proposition when it 
came to utilizing his carcass, so that, after all, the “var- 
mints” got the major portion of him, Karl only selecting 
a few of the choice bits which would make a good stew. 

As for Cuthbert, he never did fancy elk meat, some- 
how, and yearned for tender antelope, such as they had 
become accustomed to on the plains. 

Old Sile tried them once on beaver steak, but they 
were unanimously of the opinion that, while it might be 
deemed fair provender by some, it must be hard times 
indeed before they would care to accept it as regular 
rations. 

It is astonishing what inroads three rifles can make 
upon the game of a certain section when kept everlast- 


154 The Gallant Old Elk at Bay. 

ingly at it for five months, especially when backed up by 
a series of traps that have been cunningly set for busi- 
ness. 

While the deep snow lasted new game could hardly be 
expected to migrate and the depleted supply was not 
reinforced, so that presently the prairie chums and their 
captain were obliged to considerably widen the circuit 
of their trapping zone. 

This necessitated a longer tramp, so that an earlier start 
must be made. 

The novelty had worn ofif. 

With Cuthbert the monetary value of the peltries 
counted as naught, since he had a superabundance of the 
filthy lucre. 

Karl kept it up with Old Sile because he never liked 
to let go of a thing, and, besides, it meant something 
to the veteran to bring down a goodly stock of furs in 
the spring, since this perquisite was to be his own. 

So it happened that Cuthbert was frequently left alone 
at the camp while the others spent the day making the 
rounds of the traps, sometimes bringing home fresh meat 
in addition to the skins captured. 

On these occasions Cuthbert usually busied himself 
cutting wood, being now a fair hand with the axe, 
though once he came very near having a serious accident, 
being lamed, as it were, for a week and hobbling around 
by the use of a home-made cane. 

Then he tried fishing under the ice with the spear, and 
picked up quite a few trout that lay in the deep water of 
the pond holes. 

And it was while upon one of these little side excur- 
sions that our Virginia boy underwent another experience 
worth relating. 


CHAPTER XL 


THE BEAR THAT WENT EISHING. 

The backbone of winter had been broken, as Old Sile 
expressed it. 

That was to say, they would have no more long-con- 
tinued, steady, bitter weather, such as January had pre- 
sented. 

Of course, there would be cold and storm, plenty of 
snow, and perhaps the most severe drops of mercury 
during the whole season, but they could expect mild days 
between, when the surface of the snow would melt, to 
be frozen like glass at night. 

It was during one of these little thaws that Cuthbert 
conceived the idea of making another try for trout. 

He had never before caught this game fish in winter, 
and it seemed out of all reason that the trout had not 
secreted themselves as usual, under rocks and stumps, 
to remain until early spring, but there they were, as their 
presence on the camp table abundantly testified. 

Another thing gave Cuthbert rather a cruel wrench. 

He counted himself a true sportsman, and believed in 
capturing game when possible after such methods as 
seemed just and fair in the eyes of the craft. 

It therefore went somewhat against his grain to spear 
trout. In some Eastern States such a thing would be an 
oiYense against the law. 

They must have them to eat, however, and, as no one 
could induce them to bite at such bait as they had to 
offer, Cuthbert put aside his scruples and went into the 
affair with his ordinary vim. 


136 The Bear That Went Fishing. 

He had the usual boy’s faculty for throwing his whole 
heart into his sport. 

Usually success attended his efforts, for he was a poor 
loser, and disdained to give up a game until he had liter- 
ally exhausted every possible chance. 

On the day in question Cuthbert had been baffled at the 
old stand, where he had up to this time never failed to 
take toll. 

For some reason or other, the trout appeared to have 
abandoned the spot. 

No doubt the weather was to blame, for fish are af- 
fected by it more than by any other cause. 

Cuthbert knew there were still any amount of trout in 
the pond, because he had seen them on his last visit, and 
the creek was frozen so solidly in places that they could 
not have escaped. 

Certain scratches on the ice attracted his attention, 
and then a light broke upon him. 

Some animal had been out here, attempting to scoop 
the trout out of the hole, or fish for them in some in- 
genious manner known to his craft. Whether he had 
secured a mess or not was an unfathomable mystery, but 
at any rate he had succeeded in scaring the timid fish 
from that hole. 

There were others. 

Cuthbert had located several, and, having brought 
along the axe for just such an emergency, he straightway 
proceeded to make the ice-chips fly. 

^ By the time he had his hole cut through he had fright- 
ened away what fish there might have been in the imme- 
diate vicinity, and was compelled to await their return. 

His time he utilized by passing over to the old hole, 
where he picked up several trophies, the trout having 
wandered thither when disturbed at the new place. 

Cuthbert had an idea — a very old one, known among 


The Bear That Went Fishing. 137 

all boys who skate. He began to pound upon the ice 
in the neighborhood of the other deep places where he 
had reason to believe the fish congregated, but studiously 
avoided the openings he meant to work. 

It panned out famously. 

The trout gathered in squads and companies within 
reach of his pole. 

All he had to do was to drop his spear in and pull it 
out, when usually it held a flapping prize on the delicate 
prongs. 

Evidently they were in for a spread, and this time no 
one would be able to complain that the trout offered only 
a taste. 

Steadily his pile increased. 

When they began to grow scarce at the one hole he 
stepped over to the other, and plied his spear with the 
same good will. 

There was not a great deal of sport in such work, 
nothing like what the old Indian in the Columbia River 
country would experience, perched among the ragged 
rocks above some wild torrent, ready to thrust his spear 
into some lordly salmon that pushed its way up against 
the streaming current to spawn. 

All the same, it was for the pot, and with this Cuthbert 
had to rest content. 

He was so engrossed in his work that he paid no at- 
tention to anything else for the time being. 

It was only when the trout began to come up few and 
far between that he bethought himself of the fact that 
there was such a thing as enough. 

He did not want to be a trout hog. 

Besides, his arm was not made of steel, and this con- 
stant exercise had a tendency to weary the flesh. 

Now, to gather his trophies, string them upon several 
prongs from a branch, and saunter home to surprise the 


138 The Bear That Went Fishing. 

others with a treat when they returned weary and hungry 
at nightfall. 

Hello! 

Cutihbert had a little .surprise coming as he rested his 
tired arms and cast an involuntary glance around the 
pond. 

He had thought himself the only fisher on the ice, but 
in this it seems he made a mistake. 

As his roving glance ranged in the quarter of the other 
hole, he discovered a moving object. 

No need to examine it closely to tell what it might be. 

It was a bear, a small grizzly, the same animal, no 
doubt, responsible for the many scratches seen on the ice. 

He had come out of his winter retreat prematurely, 
and was evidently possessed of an appetite that demanded 
attention. 

Cuthbert was not only startled, he was annoyed. 

To stand by and see those sweet little trout which he 
had captured at such an expenditure of time and muscle 
disappearing down the maw of that audacious bear was 
irritating, to say the least. 

It made his anger rise. 

He simply would not stand it. 

Then came the thought of revenge. 

What could he do? 

Unfortunately, his rifle lay close to where the miserable 
marauder munched at his delicate feast, Cuthbert having 
laid it down when commencing operations. 

To attack the beast with only a little fish spear would 
have been folly, in short, criminal, since it invited death. 

Cuthbert had not forgotten how his flesh crept when he 
examined the terrible claws of those grizzlies killed up in 
the ravine at the bears’ den. Perhaps this was the one 
that got away on that occasion. At any rate, he looked 
an ugly customer, if not of enormous bulk. 


The Bear That Went Fishing. 1J9 

Well, that first pile of fish could be counted on as gone. 
If only he could save the rest and manage to obtain some 
satisfaction from the gluttonous robber. 

Keeping his eye on Bruin, he began to hastily gather 
his spoils ready to run if the beast began to shamble his 
way. 

By quick work he managed to make sure of his spoils, 
and then moved away over the ice so as to pass around 
the bear. 

Cuthbert had left a few of the smaller trout as a bait 
which sooner or later might lure the animal to the sec- 
ond hole. 

This move would leave the first opening unguarded, 
and consequently his rifle might be regained, this being 
his first object. 

Bruin growled a little as he walked off, and Cuthbert’s 
heart was in his throat for fear he should take a notion 
to start in pursuit. 

If, however, the bear cherished any notion of getting 
even with one who had robbed him of a family, he cared 
more for the feast he had found ready spread, and con- 
tinued to gulp down the few remaining trophies of Cuth- 
bert’s skill with the spear. 

The boy felt deep resentment against such unman- 
nerly treatment. 

He now had a chance to go home with more than half 
his catch, enough for a square meal all around, appar- 
ently ; but this he absolutely refused to do. 

His rifle lay there on the ice, and he was desirous of 
securing it. 

Besides, after such treatment he felt that something on 
the aggressive order was expected of him. 

When he had made a half circuit and come up behind 
the bear, he stood still to see what the latter would do. 


140 The Bear That Went Fishing. 

meanwhile hanging his fish upon the branch of a pine 
tree by the aid of the spear. 

What next? 

Would Bruin shuffle off the ice, quite satisfied with 
what he had eaten? 

Well, Cuthbert was not very familiar with the ways of 
grizzlies, but he rather guessed this was just what the 
fellow would not do as long as there remained a chance 
to pick up another one of those delicious trout. 

Should he come toward him Cuthbert meant to climb a 
tree. 

Ah! the beast was nosing around, endeavoring to get 
on the track of another feast. 

His nose was in the ‘air, it pointed toward the second 
hole — really the sense of smell must be abnormally devel- 
oped in these animals. 

It was in this one, at least, and to his injury. 

Cuthbert kept pace with him, advancing just as fast the 
bear did. 

When Bruin reached the second hole the boy was not 
far away from the first. 

His gun lay there in plain sight, not where he had left 
it, but on the edge of the hole. Bruin having; contemptu- 
ously knocked it aside while nosing around for more fish. 

To reach it Cuthbert was compelled to advance still 
closer to his enemy. 

He waited until the other busied himself with the few 
small fish left as a bait to attract his attention, and then, 
subduing his troubled heart as best he could, Cuthbert 
glided forward with outstretched hand. 

It was a critical moment. 

Even had the bear turned and advanced upon him with 
fierce aspect he was determined that nothing would pre- 
vent him from securing the firearm now that he was so 
very near its location. 


The Bear That Went Fishing. 141 

The rascal did growl menacingly, proving that he was 
aware of human presence ; but those toothsome trout, how 
could he desert them to pay any attention to a biped? 

And when the lad’s eager fingers drew the Winchester 
into his clutch, he heaved a sigh of huge relief, proving 
that the suspense had been truly awful. 

What a change came over him with the possession of 
the gun! 

He seemed to lose much of his dread concerning those 
awful claws, so prized by the Indians as to stamp their 
possessor a brave without fear or reproach. 

Should he fire now ? 

Cuthbert was not usually cautious, but by degrees his 
nature had begun to take on something in this line, thanks 
to the constant intercourse with long-headed Karl. 

He looked behind. 

It was just as well that he should know how far he 
would have to run. 

The woods lay something like twenty yards away. 
The bear was less than ten from where he stood. 

If he fired and by some misadventure only wounded 
or angered Bruin, the chances the other would come upon 
him ere he could cover that distance and pull himself 
up into a pine tree. 

Better risk a longer shot, in order to make sure of 
his retreat. 

Wise Cuthbert! There was yet hope of his becoming 
a great Nimrod. His life on the plains and among the 
lodges of the Sioux had done wonders for him already. 

So he backed away a dozen paces or more, and then 
brought up for business. 

Now to send his compliments to the shaggy trout thief, 
and give him his dues. 

The bear had finished his repast. 

He sat there sniffing the air or licking his chops, Cuthr 


142 The Bear That Went Fishing. 

bert could not say which ; but at any rate he offered a 
fair target, and our young friend accepted the chance. 

Was he too hasty in firing, or did the bear move just 
as he pulled the trigger? 

It mattered little. 

The thing that concerned him most of all was the fact 
that the bear had started for him, floundering over the 
ice in a manner that was hardly suggestive of serious 
impediments in the shape of wounds. 

Cuthbert was well aware of the fact that just then time 
was very valuable, and that seconds counted as never be- 
fore. 

He had not taken his gun down from his shoulder save 
to pump another cartridge into the chamber, and hence 
was able to send a second shot after the first, and follow 
this up by a third, with but a breath between. 

Each time he scored, as the roar of the advancing beast 
declared, but somehow his lead did not seem to lodge 
where it could do the most good. 

At any rate, the sturdily-built beast came swarming on, 
bristling with rage and mindful of nothing save the de- 
sire to overhaul the party to whom he owed his hurt. 

Whether Cuthbert cared to remain and fight it out, 
or run away so that he might live to do battle another 
day, the thing was taken out of his hands by circum*- 
stances. 

The mechanism of his repeating rifle failed to properly 
work — in his excitement he had clogged the empty shell 
or something on that order, which rendered the gun use- 
less until he could give it a little attention. 

That settled it. 

To remain and welcome the grizzly there on the open 
ice might have pleased some reckless spirits, but, as for 
Cuthbert, he was ready to decline the privilege. 


The Bear That Went Fishing, 143 

So he turned and put for the shore, with the grizzly 
sliding and scratching in full pursuit. 

Cuthbert made good time. 

Now he had reason to bless his foresight in actually 
selecting the tree which would afford him the best shelter, 
for he could make a bee-line for it and mount in hot 
haste. 

He persisted in holding on to his gun, and this de- 
layed his climbing business enough to give the bear a 
chance to come up, rear upon his hind legs and make a 
desperate, although unsuccessful, attempt to seize hold of 
his moccasined feet. 

Indeed, it was a close shave, for the fellow’s claws 
actually tore the colored porcupine quill ornament on the 
side of his footgear. 

Cuthbert was visibly alarmed when he saw the angry 
beast make as though he would clamber up into the tree 
after him ; but he had been assured by Old Sile that, un- 
like his black cousin, the grizzly bear never mounts a 
tree; and presently his enemy gave up the idea, ceased 
his savage growls, and fell to licking several wounds 
where the bullets had started the blood flowing. 

This gave the beleaguered lad the opportunity he de- 
sired to examine his gun. 

Unless he could remedy the mishap he was evidently 
doomed to remain in the tree until nightfall, or at least 
such time as his comrades might come to the relief. 

Surely, the prospect was anything but bright to an 
ambitious hunter. 

The chagrin of failing to drop his game with three 
shots was bad enough, but to be treed in this style was 
disgraceful in the eyes of a proud' Virginian. 

All was not yet lost. 

He might remedy the trouble with his gun. , Once be- 
fore had the same thing happened through his own fault. 


144 The Bear That Went Fishing. 

and he could give a pretty good guess what was the 
matter. 

While Bruin licked his -wounds and growled his dis- 
pleasure, mingled with obvious threats as to what he 
would do in case the cause of his trouble cam*e within 
reach, Cuthbert turned his attention to the weapon. 

A cursory examination showed him where the diffi- 
culty lay — that if he could only succeed in pushing back 
the cartridge the clogged mechanism would be free to 
act. 

To that end he applied himself. 

Once or twice while he thus labored he shot a curious 
glance down in the direction where his four-footed guard 
held forth. 

He sincerely hoped Mr. Grizzly was a good sticker, 
and would not give up the game, because he had thus far 
received so little satisfaction out of it. 

Cuthbert could promise a further continuance of warm 
favors if only he would remain on duty, and the blessed 
old gun could be gotten into working order. 

Indeed, he had literally carried Old Sile’s sage advice 
into extremes, and was so well loaded down with am- 
munition that, once started, he could turn the grizzly’s 
carcass into a lead mine if need be. 

The first time he took a survey he found that the bear 
had ceased to whine and lick his cuts, but was sitting up, 
apparently sniffing the air. 

Which was strange, Cuthbert thought, since he was 
perched in plain sight, and Bruin could have no trouble 
about discovering his location. 

The second time he looked down he realized how mat- 
ters stood. The grizzly was no longer directly under- 
neath him, but had gone to an adjoining tree, where he 
stood on his hind legs and appeared to be reaching zeal- 


The Bear That Went Fishing. 145 

ously for something that was just tantalizingly beyond 
his grasp. 

Ah ! again those fish. 

Cuthbert remembered thrusting the two strings on his 
spear and lodging them in the branches of a pine. 

The bear’s sense of smell had located the prize, and he 
was after them. 

It was really comical to see how he strained to gather 
in the prized trophies, nor did he seem in the least aston- 
ished to find such peculiar fruit growing on a common 
pine. 

Even a bear may be a philosopher, and take the favors 
of fortune just as they come. 

This sight stirred Cuthbert up again, especially when 
he saw the strings of fish swaying, as though Bruin had 
struck the lower part. 

Already the greedy brute had eaten half of the prod- 
ucts of his hard labor. Was he to let him complete the 
job? 

Perish the thought. 

Accordingly, he gave a shout to attract the beast’s at- 
tention, and made as if about to descend the tree, which 
action, of course, brought the scamp limping to the spot 
with such an eager expression on his shrewd face that 
Cuthbert laughed most heartily. 

His object had been accomplished, however, since there 
was a temporary abandonment of the forage design on 
Bruin’s part. 

Three times did the lad thus raise a false alarm and 
bring his guard, complaining, to the foot of the tree, 
which he scratched and gnawed the while, as if to indi- 
cate what was in store for a fellow of Cuthbert’s size if 
ever he had the chance to let himself out. 

By slow degrees the work on the gun was accom- 
plished, and success now seemed reasonably certain. 


146 The Bear That Went Fishing. 

The bear had about determined not to pay any more 
attention to him, but devote his entire energies toward 
getting the fish. 

Constant batting them to and fro must, sooner or later, 
have caused a downfall. 

Luckily Cuthbert was ready with his gun before this 
came about. 

When he had the mechanism once more in proper 
working order, he made sure to fill the magazine, so that 
he could count on its full capacity, eight shots in all. 

Then he looked at his watch and found it just a little 
after three. The bear’s hour had come. 

At such close quarters it was no great feat to down 
the long-haired pirate, and Cuthbert made no boast over 
the shot that concluded the business. 

Rather, he felt chagrined, because he had fired three 
times point blank at the beast when upon the ice with 
wretched results. 

Upon figuring up matters, he concluded that the grizzly 
was, after all, a fair balance for the trout he had de- 
voured. 

There were more in the pond that could be taken if he 
thought he lacked in quantity; but when he counted his 
string he found he had all he cared to dress for supper, 
and if the rest of the party wanted more they would have 
to come after them personally. 

It is not every one going trouting who can bag a big 
bear, and Cuthbert was conscious of a certain amount of 
pride in his heart as he stalked homeward, his fish 
dangling from the end of his shouldered rifle. 

Old Sile took the lantern after supper, and, with his 
gun on his arm, went through tbe woods to help Cuth- 
bert slip ofT the grizzly’s jacket and carry that trophy of 
the chase back to camp as a memento of the fishing bear. 


CHAPTER XII. 


AN INVASION OF THE WOLVES. 

As a general thing boys tire of even a pleasure when 
it has been repeated many times and long for a change, 
while the older a man grows the more contented does he 
become with his lot should his lines fall in pleasant places. 

Knowing this weakness of youth, Old Sile was secretly 
pleased to see that his two wards did not seem to exhibit 
any restlessness along this order. 

They never wearied of praising the comforts of the 
old dugout. 

Had it been a palace they could not have appeared more 
satisfied. 

And then, even the monotony of the life seemed to pos- 
sess an indescribable charm for them. When approach- 
ing the marked spot where a trap had been set, there 
was always a sensation of uncertainty as to whether it 
had caught a victim, and the satisfaction of outwitting 
the keenest animals in all creation, sly Reynards of the 
woods. 

Then the hunts were usually rewarded with game of 
some sort. 

On the whole, it was a season of constant surprises, a 
stretch of adventure that could not be forgotten by either 
of the lads, no matter what scenes of excitement the 
veiled future might have in store for them. 

To Cuthbert there was always a mysterious charm 
about the great forest. 

Whether it was summer, when the birds sang in the 
leafy trees, 'or in autumn, with the coloring of the leaves, 
the falling of nuts and the sad voices that told of an- 


148 An Invasion of the Wolves. 

other season’s ending, or in the dead of winter, when the 
bleak winds whistled mournfully athwart the bushy tops 
of the sentinel pines, and the clinging snow made ghosts 
of the giant trees, it was all the same ; he loved the woods 
above everything else. 

The prairie was grand, but monotonous, while the 
forest presented the many changes of a kaleidoscope, and 
appealed to his Virginian heart. 

Taken in all, the season must be set down as a grand 
success. 

What discomforts fell to their lot were soon forgotten, 
while the pleasures would long haunt their memories. 

It had been arranged that when the camp in Paradise 
Valley was broken up in the spring, Karl was to accom- 
pany his chum East, and see something there that he had 
always yearned after — the great ocean. 

They would pass the summer at Cuthbert’s old home, 
taking jaunts in various directions, even into Canada for 
a spell of salmon fishing, returning by way of Niagara 
Falls. 

In the early autumn preparations could be made for 
their long-projected visit across the border to old Mexico, 
land of the Aztec and the Montezumas, region of ro- 
mance and adventure, there to see what life on a truly 
Southern cattle ranch was like, with vaqueros taking 
the places of coiwboys. 

There is, perhaps, more enjoyment in the anticipation 
of such projects than may even be secured from their 
realization. 

The otters had all been taken. 

Beaver were scarce, and Old Sile was of the opinion 
that it would be well to leave a few of the broad-tails for 
stocking purposes. 

Their elk yard was a thing of the past, the remaining 


An Invasion of the Wolves. 149 

animals having taken a notion to vamose when a favor- 
able stretch of weather gave them the opportunity. 

And game was getting very scarce, indeed, owing to 
the unusually protracted winter. 

Old Sile began to grow a little serious. 

Their provisions had been reduced to rather a low ebb ; 
true, they had plenty of coffee, tea, and such things, but 
the substantials had gone at an amazing rate. 

Old Sile had possibly not counted upon the voracious 
appetities of two half-grown chaps, who were ready for 
five meals a day, and always as hungry as wolves between 
times. 

The old ranger began to save meat that earlier in the 
season they would have thrown to the winds. 

Still the keen cold held sway, and it seemed as though 
there was never to be summer more. 

Up in the polar regions it could not have kept up a 
more constant icy spell. 

With the axe they managed to secure all the wood that 
was necessary, but it kept one or the other busy ; in fact, 
the homekeeper did little else save chop and hew. 

Old Sile declared it beat his time. 

He had never experienced such Arctic weather so late 
in the season, and hinted at all manner of remarkable 
things having happened to the sun, though the boys only 
laughed at his croakings. 

With the usual carelessness of youth, they were quite 
willing to let the universe go on in its own way, and not 
concern themselves over the doings of things they could 
not remedy. 

And the wolves, starved out of their mountain fast- 
nesses, came down into the valley hunting in packs like 
wild dogs. 

Never had they been so bold, hovering about the camp. 


150 An Invasion of the Wolves. 

scratching at the door at nights, and howling in unison 
while the hours of darkness lasted. 

Cuthbert had at last wearied of dropping the gaunt 
creatures. 

When he was in camp he dared not leave the door 
open five minutes, lest some venturesome animal should 
sneak in and steal their last remaining piece of dried 
meat, which could not be hung up high enough to be out 
of their reach. 

Absolute hunger will make an animal do the most 
astonishing acrobatic feats. 

One evening they had an apt illustration of this, that 
created quite a furor while it lasted. 

Old Sile was cooking supper, while the tired boys sat 
around the fire, resting. 

The odor of frying meat was certainly very appetizing, 
and must have been tantalizing to any hungry creature 
debarred from the feast, reducing such to a pitch of des- 
peration. 

At least, the wolfish chorus without seemed to be more 
noisy than ever, and once a pair of glowing eyes actually 
looked in upon them through the little window, where- 
upon Karl pulled the cord that closed the wooden shutter. 

They were in the midst of eating, and feeling very 
comfortable, indeed, because of the warmth around them 
and the savory dinner that had been provided, when sud- 
denly a great scratching was heard, accompanied by fear- 
ful yelps. 

Old Sile looked up, for the dropping of charred wood 
gave him a pretty good idea as to where the source of 
the trouble was located. 

He was just in time to see a struggling form come 
whirling and scratching down the ample chimney, ac- 
companied by a shower of debris. 

Plump into the fire fell Mr. Wolf, whereupon more 


An Invasion of the Wolves. 15 1 

howls broke forth, and, with a mad leap, he left his un- 
comfortable quarters. 

In his passage he knocked Old Sile over, and created 
quite a little excitement, running hither and thither, 
singed and smoking, and just as -wild to get out as he bad 
before been to get in. 

‘‘Wal, I declar to Moses!” sung out the old ranger, 
scrambling to his knees, “this beats my time all holler. 
They’ve took to the chimbly, by hookey — they’re a-comin’ 
in on us. Look out for that critter, boys ; don’t let him 
get his teeth in ye. He’s as mad as a March hare, an’ it’s 
dangerous bein’ hit by a 'wolf in that ere condition. 
Who’s got a gun ?” 

Karl was nearest the rack. 

He had snatched up a heavy pine knot upon discover- 
ing the savage nature of their strange visitor, and this he 
held ready for business. 

At Sile’s words he started to move toward the guns. 
The wolf was running up and down the side of the cabin, 
snarling like a hyena, and acting as though possessed of a 
demon. 

Of course, he suspected that Karl’s movement boded 
him no good, and, with the fury that even a rat at bay 
will display, he leaped directly at the lad. 

Old Sile gave a whoop, and hurled the frying-pan at 
the savage beast, but though it made a great clatter 
against the wall, it did not bring the wolf to a halt. 

Karl, fortunately, was ready with his pine knot up- 
raised. No star batter ever met an inshoot with greater 
success than this cowboy of the plains showed when he 
whirled his impromptu bat toward that springing beast. 

There was a deep, suggestive thud, a half-smothered 
yelp, and the animal went back in a heap against the door. 

“That’s a home run !” shouted Cuthbert, on his knees. 


An Invasion of the Wolves, 


152 

an eager witness of the remarkable engagement in which 
he had no part. 

Karl did not wait for another opportunity to test his 
batting qualities. 

He knew the wolf was scotched, not killed, and, given 
a few seconds of time in which to recover, would once 
more endeavor to vent his mad humor on his human ad- 
versary. 

Perhaps on the second occasion Karl might not be so 
fortunate in selecting a fair ball, and the animal find a 
chance to use his teeth. 

Karl ran no chances. 

The guns were within reach of his eager hands, and he 
lost no time in snatching the nearest from the wooden 
pegs. 

Then it was all up with the wretched beast, for Karl 
potted him without compunction, and watched his expir- 
ing kicks with the air of one who had obeyed the call of 
duty. 

Old Sile was now laughing in his peculiar way, while 
rubbing the back of his head where it had come in con- 
tact with the hard ground. 

'That’s a new experience, boys — I’ve been through 
considerable in my time, but bless me if I ever seen a 
wolf come tumblin’ down through a chimbly afore,” he 
said, looking up as though expecting a second visit. 

“Then we’ll have to go to bed with our guns and sleep 
on our arm's after this,” declared Cuthbert, in a dismayed 
tone. 

“Oh ! it’ll be a regular thing now to jump up half-a- 
dozen times a night, kill a wolf or two in the shanty, 
chuck ’em out, an’ go to sleep again,” said Old Sile, 
soberly. 

“For my part, I don’t believe the critter ever meant to 
come in,” declared Cuthbert, stoutly. 


An Invasion of the Wolves. 153 

“What makes ye think that, lad?” with a quizzical 
gleam in his eye. 

“Because no wolf cares to drop into a bed of red-hot 
coals, and that fellow was so badly scared by his experi- 
ence that he went, as you said, stark, raving mad.” 

“I believe ye are about right — p’raps he was jest 
a-leanin’ over the ole stump above, smellin’ the meat we 
cooked below, when somethin’ gave way an’ he fell in. I 
reckon we’ve kinder burnt the stump out durin’ the win- 
ter, an’ I’ll have to take a look at it in the mornin’.” 

The excitement having subsided, Karl threw the lean 
wolf outside, where his hungry compatriots would pay 
their respects to him, and it was not long ere the snarling 
of a congregation told of his fate. A few polished bones 
in the morning would be all that remained of the adven- 
turous intruder. 

Supper was resumed where it had been left oif, and 
many were the jokes made upon this singular interrup- 
tion. 

This sudden and terrifying descent of the wolf had 
made a deep impression on Cuthbert, whose feelings 
toward the breed of animals were already of the liveliest 
nature. 

He could not keep from casting more than a few ap- 
prehensive glances up at the yawning opening that served 
them as a chimney, and in imagination saw the scintillat- 
ing orbs of other eager wolves encircling the burned-out 
stump, as 'though ready to follow 'the daring example of 
their leader. 

He also kept his gun within reach, nor did the others 
make any remark about such plain signs of nervousness. 

Cuthbert was, after all, new to these conditions. He 
had borne himself thus far with commendable valor, and 
they knew how he came to be particularly averse to the 
wolf tribe. 


>54 


An Invasion of the Wolves. 


Besides, the sight of that gaunt creature, dropping from 
the heavens, apparently, and scattering the fire as he 
plunged out of its hot embrace, was quite enough to 
startle one possessed of even greater nerve than Cuth- 
bert. 

Old Sile promised to so arrange the opening in the 
morning that, while still available for their purpose, it 
could not be used by hungry animals as a road to King- 
dom Come. 

That closed the incident, but it often came up during 
their subsequent suppers, and Cuthbert somehow could 
not restrain his hand from creeping toward his gun on 
such occasions. 

When he was left as caretaker at the dugout, and had 
to go a little distance off to chop wood, he found that it 
was necessary even then to carry his gun along, for there 
seemed to be no limit to the audacity of the prowling 
beasts. 

Cuthbert threatened to call it Wolf Roost. 

He declared they were that sly they could reason out 
the chances they took, and knew whether a man was 
armed or not. 

For instance, while they usually skulked around, keep- 
ing well out of sight when he had his gun, let him go 
without it and the beasts appeared imbued with an 
audacity that bordered on depravity. 

This was partticularly impressed upon the boy’s mind 
one day when, chopping away merrily enough, he chanced 
to look up and there, sure enough, was a gaunt wolf 
seated on his haunches and surveying him with an eager, 
hungry look, while his red tongue lolled from his mouth 
in a mianner that made the wood-chopper shiver. 

For his gun was in the cabin ! 

He raised the axe and shouted, but the wolf only stood 
up and snarled. 


An Invasion of the Wolves. 155 

Then Cuthbert, impetuous as usual, made a rush at the 
beast. 

The wolf did not await his coming, but only skulked off 
a dozen feet, when, Cuthbert having come to a stop, it 
again sat down to watch him. 

This made the boy angry. 

“We’ll see whether you do,” he cried, for the whole 
attitude of the expected beast indicated that he would 
not be averse to picking the bones of this sweet morsel 
that had so long been tantalizingly within reach. 

With that Cuthbert began a counter movement toward 
the house. 

He never dreamed but that the wolf would hang off, 
keeping beyond his reach. 

To his surprise, the gaunt chap trotted around so as to 
come between the boy and the cabin, as though aware of 
the fact that if Cuthbert ever reached this latter place his 
cake would be all dough. 

“Confound the scamp ; I believe he means to tackle me 
rather than let me get where my gun lies,” was the con- 
clusion the young woodsman reached when he saw the 
beast’s really defiant attitude. 

And this was just what the wolf meant. 

Luckily he was alone. Had there been a pack within 
call, Cuthbert’s situation must have been desperate, in- 
deed. Perhaps he might have been forced to the hu- 
miliating extreme of climbing a tree. 

Axe in hand he advanced sturdily upon the defiant 
beast. 

The wolf snarled menacingly and showed his white 
teeth back of his drawn lips. 

Cuthbert had no desire for a combat at close quarters 
with such an ugly customer. 

Was there any other way in which he could dislodge 


156 An Invasion of the Wolves. 

him, or was it possible to make a half circuit around, so 
as to reach the cabin? 

He started a flank movement. 

Immediately the wise old pirate changed his base, and 
the situation was as before. 

When Cuthbert had made three separate attempts 
without success, he realized that he could not hope to get 
out of the affair without a scrimmage, as Old Sile would 
call it. 

Accordingly he loosened the knife in his belt, took a 
firm hold upon the axe, and then, muttering the most 
tremendous whoops of which his young lungs were ca- 
pable, rushed upon the determined guard. 

Even this fervid display failed to make his enemy turn 
tail and run. 

Desperation had apparently worked that wolf up to the 
highest notch, and he was bent upon having a meal or 
knowing the reason why. 

An axe is a terrible weapon when one can strike home 
with the keen edge, but a miss opens the wielder to at- 
tack. 

This Cuthbert found to his cost. 

He meant to end the battle almost before it had be- 
gun, with his first sweeping stroke; but either miscal- 
culated the distance or else the beast dodged, for the axe 
only cleft the air until it struck against a tree trunk. 

The wolf, strange to say, instead of leaping on him at 
once, closed its jaws on the helve of the axe. 

This favored the lad, giving him a chance to recover 
himself, and struggle for possession of the weapon. 

If he ever thought of dropping the axe and making a 
run for it, he knew such a thing would be the height of 
folly, since the wolf must overtake him ere he had cov- 
ered one-quarter of the distance to the dugout. 


An Invasion of the Wolves. 157 

Besides, it was not in the nature of a Virginian to 
turn his back on a foe in this way. 

It must be a fight to a finish. 

The wolf was gaunt, but doubtless possessed of such 
strength as is given to his species. 

Besides, he was fighting in a sort of desperation, 
taunted by gnawing hunger and the prospect of a glori- 
ous feast within his reach. 

Altogether it was a scene for an artist, that valiant lad 
struggling so gallantly with a big mountain wolf, whose 
hot breath was often on his cheeks as he fought. 

The beast clung tenaciously to the handle of the axe, as 
though the possession of the sinews of war meant success 
or failure, which it certainly did in this case. 

Cuthbert began to grow alarmed. 

What if he should become exhausted in the struggle, 
the beast would overwhelm him. 

There was his hunting knife as opposed to those cruel 
teeth. 

He snatched it out, determined to give the beast his 
death-wound. 

The glint of steel must have transmitted something 
of a nervous shock to bis hairy antagonist, for the wolf 
let go his hold upon the axe helve and jumped back, still 
ugly and snarling and unsubdued. 

Again Cuthbert moved upon the enemy’s works, and 
now he kept his eyes fastened on those wicked orbs of the 
wolf, remembering how difficult it is for any four-footed 
creature to withstand the human gaze. 

This thing had been only a theory with him up to nOw, 
when the necessities of the case compelled him to put it 
into practice. 

It required considerable nerve to thus advance upon 


158 An Invasion of the Wolves. 

so ferocious an antagonist, and perhaps Cuthbert might 
not have done it had the road to the cabin door been 
free. 

Necessity often compels us to be heroes even against 
our will. 

The short hair along the neck and shoulders of the 
animal bristled on end, and his snarls were something to 
haunt future dreams, yet Cuthbert halted not, advanc- 
ing step by step, his eyes fastened upon the orbs of his 
lupine adversary, one hand gripping the axe, while the 
other brandished aloft that gleaming weapon whose 
shimmering blade seemed to make the wolf loth to meet 
the attack. 

Step by step, back toward the cabin. 

It was the mastery of mind over matter. 

Had Cuthbert removed his gaze but a single second 
the beast would doubtless have made a fierce lunge for 
his throat, but somehow he could not do it while thus im- 
paled upon that stem glance. 

Now the front of the shanty slowly loomed up. Cuth- 
bert could see it in the range of his vision, even while he 
dared not remove his eyes from the glaring orbs he held 
in submission. 

Nearer still — ithe end was close at hand. 

The wolf’s spirit began to break. Perhaps a conscious- 
ness of his defeat overwhelmed' him. At any rate bis 
snarls seemed to be transformed into whines, and the 
bristles along his spine no longer stood stiffly erect like 
the fretful quills upon a porcupine. 

Game to the last, he would not turn tail and gallop 
out of sight. 

Cuthbert had now come within a dozen feet of the 
door. 

He knew the time had arrived to make or break, and, 


An Invasion of the Wolves. 159 

giving another fierce Whoop, such as the cowboy life had 
taught him, he charged the enemy again. 

This time the wolf did not await his coming, but backed 
water. 

True he only retreated a dozen paces, and then, as 
though ashamed to show the white feather, once more 
turned to face his foe. 

It was too late to retrieve the lost advantage, for Cuth- 
bert had vanished. 

Never did quarter-back, hugging the ball in his arms, 
sprint toward goal with more frenzied eagerness than 
Cuthbert plunged in the direction of that cabin door as 
soon as the coast was apparently clear. 

He struck it with such violence that the wooden but- 
ton which temporarily held it on the inside, and which 
could be manipulated from without by means of a cord, 
was driven from its moorings and sent spinning to the 
opposite side of the room, while the young fellow meas- 
ured his full length on the hard earthen floor. 

Hardly was he down before he scrambled to his feet 
again, for an unpleasant sight kept itself before his men- 
tal vision, that of the audacious wolf following him in, 
to leap upon his back as he lay there. 

One had even entered by means of the chimney, what 
was to prevent another from taking advantage of the 
open door? 

How eagerly Cuthbert reached for his gun, and never 
had it felt so full of promise as when he grasped it now. 

A great wave of relief swept over him, a wonderful 
change from' the haggard feeling of a short time be- 
fore. 

“Ah ! my old buccaneer, I reckon your name is Dennis 
now,” he laughed, hoarsely, as he stepped out of the 
door ; but the discreet wolf, having played his hand for 


i6o An Invasion of the Wolves. 


all it was worth, had vanished in the woods, where even 
a search failed to disclose him, so that when the others 
came home all Cuthbert had to prove his wonderful story 
was the plain print of the wolf's teeth upon the hickory 
axe helve. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


TATTERS SOUNDS THE ALARM. 

There was one thing, at least, that had given Old Sile 
much solid satisfaction. From the time when Caleb 
Cross and his dark-visaged Mexican ally, defeated in 
their sinister purpose, shook the dust of Paradise Valley 
from their feet, there had been discovered no sign of in- 
truders up to the present. 

For months the whole region belonged to the little 
hunting party just as much as if they were the only peo- 
ple on earth. 

It was even better than the veteran could have hoped 
for. 

Nevertheless, he never once relaxed his eternal vigi- 
lance, but was constantly on the alert for signs of 
strangers, knowing full well that such coming wouM 
mean danger to them. 

Those vast solitudes, how Cuthbert learned to love 
them in all their wonderful beauty, with the interlaced 
branches above, covered with snow, forming a delicate 
frost-work against the blue sky — the tree trunks stand- 
ing out like grim black giants in all this world of white- 
ness. 

He could easily imagine what grandeur it must pre- 
sent in the summer, when a carpet of moss lay under 
foot, the birds caroled in the tree tops, the plash and gen- 
tle murmur of the stream ran like a lullaby, and the 
warm breeze sighed through the bushy pine tops. 

At such a time, however, it was probable some In- 
dian camp would be pitched near Paradise Valley, and 


Tatters Sounds the Alarm. 


162 

the charm of the scene must be broken when these dusky 
sons of the wilderness took to scouring the vicinity. 

Cuthbert knew what an Indian village meant, and had 
seen all he cared to of the picturesque, but very dirty 
collection of tepees. He would rather some other fellow 
had the experience next time. 

After his strange adventure with that most deter- 
mined son of Belial, clothed in a wolf skin, who had 
made so positive a. bid for a jolly dinner, Cuthbert was 
more than a little nervous regarding the whole lupine 
tribe. 

He had received more of a shock than he cared to ad- 
mit to the others, and from that time forward it would 
have been hard to find Cuthbert divorced from his gun. 

When he crawled into his bunk he even kept it where 
he could reach it by stretching out his hand. 

There was method in his madness. 

When the varmints had taken to coming down the 
chimney, anything seemed within the range of possibil- 
ity. 

Old Sile had tinkered with the stump that served as a 
smoke outlet above the dugout hearth, and he assured the 
youngsters that it was impregnable to the attack of any 
beast, however cunning. 

Winter was finally breaking up. 

The sun felt warmer, and sometimes about the middle 
of the day, when on the south side of the cabin, it was 
pleasant to bask in the cheery rays, dreaming of the 
pleasant events of their life on the cattle ranch. 

As yet no general thaw had set in, but it would be 
along ere a great while. 

Then the snow would melt, the creek run bank full, 
and the valley take on a new dress strangely at variance 
with the pure white garb to which they had become so 


Tatters Sounds the Alarm. i6? 

accustomed, and which held so great and indeFcribable 
a charm for them. 

Perhaps neither of the boys would be sorry. They 
had grown a little weary of the life, for, after all, it was 
very monotonous to such lively natures. 

Besides, they lacked the powerful incentive to gain 
that would send men to even more remote and lonely dis- 
tances than this valley, and cheer them through many 
months of winter. 

Yes, taken in all, the boys were ready to confess 
frankly enough that, while they had most certainly en- 
joyed themselves tremendously with Old Sile — while they 
entertained a genuine affection for the old dugout that in 
memory would often carry them back again to its cozy 
interior, still they would welcome the day when camp 
was to be broken and the swift voyage to the Big Horn 
commenced. 

There was little more to do. 

The traps yielded but small profit, no matter how cun- 
ningly Old Sile set them. 

When the game was not there it could hardly be ex- 
pected that they would make a heavy haul. 

By degrees the veteran was shortening his circuit and 
closing his season. 

Each day he brought in some unprofitable trap and 
hung it with the rest. 

The skins taken during the season were all gone over 
and securely done up in bales, so they might be readily 
transported in the boats when the time of departure ar- 
rived. 

Then the boats themselves were overhauled one day, 
any defects remedied, and all made ready for the return 
voyage. 

The craft were secreted among the rushes down at the 
pond, and securely fastened, so that no sudden rise in the 


i 64 Tatters Sounds the Alarm. 

water could tear them from their moorings and send them 
whirling down stream, leaving the trio of hunters in a 
sad pickle. 

Had they been given their choice Karl and Cuthbert 
would have been only too glad of an opportunity to cross 
the country on horseback instead of by boat. 

What glorious prospect it would have been, with Buck- 
skin and Nicodemus under them, fresh for a race — the 
boys fairly groaned as they mentally drew the picture. 

It seemed ages since they had last scoured the bound- 
less prairie on the backs of these faithful and intelligent 
animals. 

Even Old Sile began to hope that they were destined 
to finish the trapping season without further trouble and 
adventures, at least so far as meddling human beings 
were concerned. 

There is many a slip ’twixt the cup and the lip, and the 
veteran found himself liable to make mistakes as well as 
the rest of mankind. 

Cuthbert and Karl had taken their last trip up the 
canon or ravine that day. 

They explored the old bears’ den, and again in imag- 
ination experienced the stirring scene that had taken place 
there during the earlier part of their stay in the valley. 

A few ducks had appeared upon the swollen" creek, 
harbingers of spring, and Cuthbert had even tried the 
fishing, though with indifferent success, the water being 
too muddy. 

They expected to make one more grand hunt, cover- 
ing the choicest bit of territory, where the chances were 
best for game. 

After that excursion, which was laid out for the en- 
suing day, they cared not how soon Old Sile gave the 
order to pack up and get ready to leave the camp. 

Youth always looks forward [to enjoyments that are 


Tatters Sounds the Alarm. 165 

about to come, while old age dreams of those that have 
been spent. 

All of them were full of spirits on this evening in 
question. 

Even Karl was persuaded to sing a ditty or two known 
to all cow-punchers that told of the pleasures and dangers 
of the great trail from Texas, and had a good rollicking 
chorus, in which the others joined, until the very roof of 
the old cabin seemed to tremble with the vibration. 

Evidently our friends were growing somewhat reck- 
less, now that the end of their stay in this valley of the 
gods was in sight. 

Earlier in the season they exercised more care and dis- 
cretion lest unwelcome strangers be attracted to the camp. 

Even Rags and Tatters seemed to share in the jollity 
of the hour, little suspecting, poor cubs, that their time 
had about come to be rudely severed from their native 
woods, and taken to civilization, where curious people 
would stare and children poke sticks at them, probably in 
some menagerie or zoo. 

At any rate, their gambols were of an excruciatingly 
funny order, and kept the boys in a constant roar of 
laughter from the hour they appeared on the scene up to 
the time Cuthbert led them into their “boudoir,” as he 
had long since dubbed their dugout. 

As usual Old Sile made the rounds. 

Habit was strong in him. 

In years gone by, when a man really took his life in his 
hand, coming up here to trap during a season, the utmost 
caution was necessary in order to baffle those keen foes 
with a dusky skin who prowled around searching for just 
such bonanzas as a camp presented. 

Though many years had fled since then, and Old Sile 
had gone through various vicissitudes of fortune, he 


Tatters Sounds the Alarm 


166 

could not forget what had seemed second nature in those 
halcyon days of yore. 

Every night, as regularly as clockwork, he would pick 
up his gun, step outside and make a little circuit around 
the camp to see that all was well. 

Not once had he found anything amiss, yet it pleased 
the old fellow to think he was doing his duty. 

Next he would see that the window shutter was prop- 
erly arranged so that while it allowed plenty of air to en- 
ter, it also prevented any intruder from gaining the in- 
terior. 

Last of all, he barred the door, fixed the fire so that it 
would burn for hours, smoked a last pipe as a night-cap, 
and turned in. 

Usually the boys were sound asleep long before these 
duties had been carried out. 

Old Sile would wake up several times during the night, 
from force of habit, and if the temperature was low he 
took it upon himself to get up and replenish the fire. 

Between these wakeful spells, however, the old fellow 
slept very soundly. 

On this night he was unusually fatigued, and had 
made up his mind to let the fire take care of itself until 
morning. 

It was easy enough to kindle it afresh after dawn had 
come. 

He knew that the coming day would in all probability 
be their last in camp, for it was his intention, while the 
boys took their farewell hunt, to bring up the canoes, 
load them with some of their least important duffle, and 
have them ready at the landing, so that on the following 
morning they might complete the job and cut loose. 

So the veteran slept soundly, as he deserved after such 
faithful labors. 

With Cuthbert the case seemed different. 


Tatters Sounds the Alarm. 167 

He dreamed, as usual, of wolves, dreamed he was 
skating far up some frozen river, when a pack of the 
hungry beasts began to chase along the snow-covered 
shores, keeping opposite him. Just as plainly as day he 
could see the gray, gaunt figures galloping along, now 
and then lifting their heads in a melancholy howl. 

Of course, his gun was at home! It always was in 
these delightful dreams ; and the camp lay ever so many 
miles away! 

His only hope lay in outstripping the eager quadru- 
peds, and to this task he appeared to set himself with a 
right good will that certainly deserved success. 

The ice was as smooth as glass, and his sharp skates 
rang as they struck the frozen bosom of the winding 
river. 

He was going like the wind, and yet it seemed utterly 
im'possible for him to leave his shadowy pursuers in the 
lurch. They no longer kept. to the shore, but had leaped 
upon the ice and were after him in full cry. Nearer and 
nearer they came, three in all, tearing along like furies. 
A backward glance showed him their gleaming teeth, 
lolling tongues and bloodshot eyes. 

Faster still. 

It was of no use, he could not outrun these fierce foes, 
and some other method must be brought into play if he 
hoped ito defeat them. Then he dreamed of trying a 
dodge of which he had heard Old Sile speak. Just as 
the wolves were at his heels he ‘made a sudden sweep to 
one side, which he was able to do on skates, and the ani- 
mals went sliding along the ice, unable to change their 
course. 

Thus he gained a lead and was speeding down stream 
again like the wind. 

Again and again did he seem to resort to the same 


Tatters Sounds the Alarm. 


1 68 

trick, until he began to grow weary and frightened lest 
his powers were failing. 

Then came the grand climax. Just beyond in the mid- 
dle of the river was a large opening in the ice, which 
suggested a brilliant idea. 

He headed directly for it, the animals in full pursuit, 
the nearest almost upon him, when he made his sudden 
side sweep upon the very edge of the hole. 

Of course, the wolves went sliding along, their savage 
yelps turning to terror as they realized the beautiful trap 
that had been spread for their unwary feet, and soused 
into the icy water, where Cuthbert left them, as he awoke 
with a grand start. 

He never felt happier in all his life to find himself 
safe in his cozy bunk. 

The fire was almost dead, and the interior of the dug- 
out very nearly dark, which would indicate the hour as 
considerably past midnight. 

Somehow this vivid dream had made such a deep and 
lasting impression on the lad’s mind that he found it dif- 
ficult to go to sleep again. 

When he shut his eyes he saw those miserable three 
gray-coated pirates swarming out of the air hole in the 
ice ready to take up the chase again with that grim' perti- 
nacity that is a part of the wolfish nature. 

So Cuthbert chose the lesser evil, and lay there, watch- 
ing the last flickering tongue of flame that occasionally 
licked up the side of the charred log upon the hearth, il- 
luminating a portion of the interior after a fashion, and 
then dying out, leaving things darker than ever by con- 
trast. 

He could hear Old Sile’s regular heavy breathing, 
showing how far gone the veteran was in the arms of 
sleep. As for Karl, you would never know of his pres- 
ence, he made so little noise in his slumber. 


Tatters Sounds the Alarm. 169 

Another sound came, apparently from the outside, and 
Cuthbert, with his mind already filled with visions of 
wolves, instantly jumped to the conclusion that one of the 
'‘pesky varmints,” or else a roving bear, was scratching 
at the door. 

He raised his head, his first impulse being to slip out 
and bowl over the marauder. 

By this time the scratching ceased and all was quiet. 
Then something tapped the wooden shutter. 

Really, this must be a very bold, as well as inquisitive 
four-legged thief to try to gain entrance in such a man- 
ner. 

Cuthbert lay there speculating in a sleepy way as to 
what manner of beast it could be. Of course, its identity 
could be settled in the morning by means of the tracks. 

His curiosity waned, and drowsiness was getting a 
pretty firm grip upon the lad, when again he was star- 
tled to hear a sound. 

This time it came from above. 

Cuthbert was fully awake now, and listening intently. 

As before he had raised his head, sustaining himself 
on an elbow. 

It chanced that the night was very still, the wind hav- 
ing died down 'to a plaintive murmur among the tree 
tops, and even the gurgling of the swollen creek over 
the roots and rocks came only as a sigh. 

It was not long before Cuthbert felt positive some ob- 
ject was nosing around up there where the stump that 
served as their smoke outlet was situated. 

Well, he had always been suspicious of that particu- 
lar place, ever since it allowed an unintemtional visit on 
the part of a hungry four-footed eavesdropper. 

Were they to have another intruder of the same order? 

He felt positive the passage could not be of sufficient 
size to admit so bulky a form as that of a bear. 


Tatters Sounds the Alarm. 


170 

Yes, he could hear a scratching sound as though the 
would-be thief had entered the hollow stump and was 
slowly descending. 

Then it must be a wild cat. There was one such 
prowler around, he chanced to know, that had thus far 
escaped their best efforts. Trap and rifle seemed to 
have no terrors for him, and, as if to prove his supreme 
contempt for these enemies of his race, it seemed as if 
he was now about to turn up in camp. 

Cuthbert was not alarmed. 

He had passed through too many adventures by this 
time to feel frightened because some animal, curious or 
hungry, felt inclined to invade their ranch. 

Should he call out ? 

That would, of course, arouse and alarm both of the 
sleepers, while it was apt to cause a hasty retreat on the 
part of the animal, whatever it might be. 

He could reach out and lay hold of his gun with per- 
fect ease. 

Surely, with this weapon in his hands, he should be 
master of the situation. 

Just then something moved. It was upon the floor and 
between him and the fireplace. 

Had an intruder already gained entrance, while a 
second filled the chimney. 

He reached for his gun, sat up in bed, and started to 
cover the dark object on the floor, when, luckily, the fire 
gave one of its periodical flareups, and he was astonished 
to discover one of the grizzly cubs lying there, while its 
companion nosed around, a^ if on the trail of something 
good. 

Plainly, then, the door of their cage must have been in- 
securely fastened, and, finding it open, the two rascals 
had entered the warm dugout, preferring it to their colder 
quarters. 


Tatters Sounds the Alarm. 171 

Had the noise proceeded from them ? 

Cuthbert thought not. 

The cubs were capable of making many queer sounds, 
but he could not see how they could reach the shutter or 
scratch over the roof. 

And, to prove it, there came that clawing noise again 
from the chimney, while the dear, clumsy little cubs were 
quite motionless close in by the dying embers of the fire. 

There was no longer the shadow of a doubt. 

And Cuthbert fancied it might be as well for him to 
keep a close observation upon that portion of the dugout. 

He remembered with what a grand splurge the unlucky 
wolf had descended into the midst of the fire on that 
previous occasion. 

Well, at least this fellow might be saved some of that 
trouble, since but a few embers remained on the hearth. 

The question arose in Cuthbert’s mind, how was he to 
make sure of his aim when the time came to fire, since 
at least a certain amount of light would be necessary if 
he expected to make sure work of it ? 

Then the scratching grew louder, and small bits of 
charred wood rattled down upon the hearth. 

Old Sile slept on. Apparently it would have taken a 
young earthquake to have aroused him from such sound 
slumber. 

Cuthbert saw one of the cubs rise and paw at some 
object that must have caught its attention. 

Whatever the object was, it suddenly dropped lightly, 
knocking against the smoldering log, and immediately 
crouching there. 

Now was his chance. 

Luck must enter more or less into the game, for he 
could not count upon seeing well enough to make a 
surety of his shot. 

Cuthbert, as has been stated before, was sitting up- 


172 Tatters Sounds the Alarm. 

rig-ht in his bunk, and could bring the rifle to his shoulder 
with a simple movement. 

He meant that the report of his gun should he the first 
warning to his friends of what was on the carpet, and 
he could easily picture their astonishment upon discover- 
ing how their camp had been a second time invaded from 
above. 

He would have given something for the privilege of 
knowing whether the intruder might be classed as wild- 
cat, panther, or loup cervier, for this was a distinction 
with a difference to him, as would be proven in case his 
shot only wounded the beast. 

Of course, he had no means of telling. The object of 
his solicitude was there, a dark mass faintly outlined 
against the meager illumination of the dying fire, and it 
was his business to supply this object with a sufficiency 
of lead in as brief a space of time as the law allowed. 

And yet, ere he could press the trigger, something oc- 
curred to bring about a change in the programme. 

One of the cubs gave utterance to a terrified yelp, as 
though resenting the treatment received. If this were 
Tatters, Cuthbert knew the temper of that irascible little 
villain well enough to be sure he would assail the intruder 
tooth and nail, regardless of consequences, for Tatters 
had all the spirit of his free-born ancestors in his shaggy 
skin, and was growing so fast that he often gave his 
master a good fight ere succumbing. 

It was Tatters, apparently, for the yelp was imme- 
diately followed by the sounds of a sudden tussle, as of 
two bodies threshing about, one hanging on with grim 
determination, the other frantically striving to get free. 

And now it was too late for Cuthbert to fire his in- 
tended shot. In the first place, he could not begin to get 
a bearing upon the arch enemy, and, again, there was no 


Tatters Sounds the Alarm. 173 

telling whether his bullet would find Tatters or the object 
for which it was intended. 

The boy started to leave his bunk, intending to strike a 
match and apply it to the candle, the very last they had 
of its kind, and jealously guarded these two weeks. 

Just as his foot touched the floor he heard some object 
fall heavily over one of the eager cubs, and at the same 
time a yell broke forth which Cuthbert recognized with a 
feeling of alarm, for he had lived among the lodges of the 
wild Sioux, and knew only too well the cry of a brave in 
distress. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


BOUNDING HORSE COMES INTO CAMP. 

Cu'thbert would never forget that remarkable scene of 
confusion. 

The Indian brave, not knowing by what manner of 
beast he had been assailed, continued to shout at the top 
of his voice, both cubs set up a tremendous snarling, and, 
even while desirous of retreating, managed to roll all over 
the recumbent figure that threshed about upon the floor. 

Above this uproar arose the voice of the old ranger as 
clear as a bell. 

As he projected himself into the indiscriminate strug- 
gling mass in front of the hearth, Old Sile kept his head 
about him. 

“Strike a light, one o’ you — a light !” was what he was 
shouting. 

Cuthbert heard^ — Cuthbert, whose mind had already 
been set upon the candle. 

The uproar continued. 

Indeed, it seemed to even grow worse when the trapper 
had entered the game, for he roared as loud as cowboy 
ever did upon the round-up trail. 

Karl was not heard from, but when the match flared up 
in Cuthbert’s trembling fingers, the first object his startled 
eyes fell upon was his chum, standing there, gun in hand, 
his face white, but determined. 

The candle being lighted, both of them turned their at- 
tention to the disturbance. 

Old Sile was industriously engaged in kicking the cubs 
aside, and at the same time hanging on to the recumbent 
figure of the midnight intruder. 


Bounding Horse Comes Into Camp. 175 

This latter was an Indian, as they could see from his 
garb and black hair. 

He had ceased his extravagant shouts as soon as the 
candle-light revealed the nature of his miserable little 
assailants. No doubt shame took possession of his heart, 
for a warrior would be mocked in his village if it were 
known that he succumbed before the attack of two grizzly 
cubs six months old. 

Cuthbert, too, had his gun in hand. The chimney was 
still open, and if one fellow could enter, why not others? 

He was glad in his heart there was an Old Sile present 
to take matters in hand ; not that he and Karl would have 
failed to meet the difficulty, but the presence of a veteran 
inspired confidence. 

“Watch the chimbly ! If another sneakin’ critter comes 
slidin’ down, shoot straight. This ain’t the time to be 
squeamish.” 

Old Sile was right. Perhaps their lives hung in the 
balance, and any measures they might take, however 
harsh, would be fully jusified under the circumstances. 

Perhaps it would have been very unhealthy for a com- 
rade of the humiliated brave to have made an appearance 
on the scene just then, for the boys were screwed up to 
that point of desperation that they must have done him 
damage on the spot. 

Old Sile stood up, towering over the recumbent figure. 

The frightened cubs cowered in a corner, whimpering 
and licking their trivial hurts. 

“Get up!” roared the trapper, applying the toe of his 
moccasin to that portion of the Indian’s anatomy best 
fitted by nature for the receipt of a hearty kick. 

It was not yet manifest whether the fellow understood 
English or not, for when he roared aloud in his scrim- 
mage with the bear cubs he used only his tribal language. 

Apparently he was familiar with the indignity of a kick. 


176 Bounding Horse Comes Into Camp. 

for he bounded to his feet like an india-rubber ball, his 
painted face expressing, if such a thing were possible, 
surprise, indignation, and rage all in one. 

When he came in contact with Old Sile he met his 
match, a man whose familiarity with such rogues made 
him capable of mastering them wherever found. 

That steel-blue e}^e looked into the red man’s orbs with 
a power that made him quail. 

One hostile movement on his part would assuredly in- 
vite his fate, and the man who dared such an avalanche 
as this iron-limbed veteran must be reckless indeed. 

When Sile saw that he had the fellow under his con- 
trol, he reached out quietly and possessed himself of his 
hunting-knife, which he calmly tossed to the other side of 
the room. 

The brave made no remonstrance, but, with some last 
show of dignity, folded his arms as if to await his fate. 

‘Well, now, who air ye?” demanded his captor, in stern 
tones. 

“Name Bounding Horse,” answered the Indian, with 
the usual pride of his race. 

“Oh !” said Old Sile, sarcastically, “d’ye know I kinder 
thort ye might be a feller by the name of ‘Young-'Man- 
Afraid-o’-Bear-Cubs.’ ” 

The shot cut home, for the warrior moved uneasily and 
tossed his head higher. 

“You think me afraid. Bah ! an Indian warrior laughs 
at death. You no make cry, White Thunder.” 

Old Sile uttered an excalamation, and bent to look 
more closely at his prisoner, who had thus uttered a name 
by which he had been known among the hostile Indians 
in the years long passed away. 

“It seems ye know me — p’raps ye’re older than ye look. 
But never mind. I reckon as how ye understand that 


Bounding Horse Comes Into Camp. 177 

bein’ caught in the act of a thief ye have given yer life 
over into our hands?’’ 

The Indian said nothing, but the look on his face ex- 
pressed defiance. 

“What was the game — our lives or booty? Why did 
Bounding Horse come crawling into the white man’s 
cabin in the night ?” 

“Say, how d’ye do,” came the bold angwer. 

The old ranger laughed. 

“Wall, I declar to Moses, ye said it bravely when them 
cubs laid holt on ye. Now see here, what’s the use o’ 
lyin’ — when a Sioux brave wants to shake hands and 
share the supper o’ his white brother he don’t go to the 
trouble o’ crawlin’ down the chimbly like an ole Santy 
Claus, that is, not generally, but comes to the door like a 
gentleman, and holds out his hand. Bounding Hoss, I’m 
very much afraid ye are given to prevarication.” 

The Indian leered a little, as though he thought he was 
being highly complimented. 

“Ugh ! me big brave — you ask Yellow Hair.* He tell 
you so. Ugh !” 

That was so characteristic of an Indian, even Karl was 
forced to laugh. 

“Wall, I’m afraid yer reputation with the gineral would 
have suffered if he’d a been here to have heard ye howl 
just now. What under the sun did ye think had ye?” 
asked Sile, for a purpose of his own, endeavoring to get 
the fellow into a communicative humor. 

“Think bad medicine man — ^you call um devil — that 
all,” grimly. 

“And ye wanted our pelts ?” 

The Indian looked as though he would again deny the 


*Yellow Hair was the name by which General Custer was 
known among Sitting Bull’s people. 


178 Bounding Horse Comes Into Camp. 

soft impeachment, but, desirous of proving his boldness, 
he changed his mind. 

“Me think you have too many — sink boat, drown um 
in river. Better me have few, save lives. Ugh !” tri- 
umphantly. 

Cuthbert was staggered by the nerve of this aborigine. 
Surely, under the proper instruction, this son of the 
wilderness would have made a splendid lawyer. The 
foundation, at least, was all there, well and good. 

“That was generous o’ ye, chief. We ought to be 
grateful, I reckon. Now, ye warn’t alone?” 

“Ugh!” grunted the great Bounding Horse, watching 
his questioner closely, as though debating in his mind 
whether it would pay best to declare himself the only 
Indian in Paradise Valley, and thus prove his valor; or 
announce that he had three score of comrades nearby, all 
fearless braves like himself, and so arouse the fears of 
his captors and cause them to treat him with signal con- 
sideration. 

Old Sile repeated the question with a new phraseology, 
though he well understood why the fellow desired delay. 

“Ugh ! me have friends/’ came the answer. 

“How many V 

The Indian shrugged his broad shoulders, that were 
covered with several thicknesses of buckskin. When one 
shirt wore out a new and gaudily-trimmed second was 
added to the winter collection, so that under such a layer 
he was almost impervious to cold. 

He held up his hands, with fingers and thumbs ex- 
tended, then closed them to again spread the digits out. 

“Twenty, eh? Wall, excuse me, but I doubt yer word. 
Bounding Hoss. How was Caleb Cross when ye seen him 
last?” 

The boys saw at once what h.is suspicious were — that 
the man they had chased out of Paradise Valley in the 


Bounding Horse Comes Into Camp. 179 

fall had come back, with others of his kind, bent upon 
thievery and revenge. 

They eagerly watched to see what effect the accusation 
would have on the Indian, but a blank look occupied his 
face. 

“Me no understand,” he said, stolidly. 

The old ranger tried several other ways of endeavoring 
to make him confess, but he found he had hold of a tough 
customer, and received little satisfaction. 

“What do with Bounding Horse — let go loose?” he 
asked, eagerly. 

“Not on your life we don’t. At fust I kinder thought 
we’d just up and burn ye at the stake, but, on reconsid- 
erin’, I’ve detarmined ye’d do purty well for a hostage.” 

“How ?” grunted the Indian, looking both puzzled and 
somewhat scared. 

“Make ye responsible for the good behavior o’ your 
friends. If they give us too much trouble, why, we’ll 
shoot you an’ then take our chances.” 

Bounding Horse slowly digested this proposition, and 
then a faint light broke over his clear-cut features. 

“Ugh! good.t” he said. 

“I’m glad it pleases you, chief. We won’t have any 
misunderstanding on that score, then, an’ ye’ll go off quiet 
an’ peaceable like. Now, yer a prisoner.” 

“Yes, me know.” 

“An’ I’m a-goin* to tie yer hands so ye can’t get away.” 

“Ugh ! no care :ne,” with a grunt. 

“That’s sensible of ye. Karl, thar’s some strong cord 
on a peg yonder; hand it over to me, if ye please. We’ll 
make the critter nice an’ comfortable like. Hold on, 
thar!” 

His last words were caused by a sudden movement on 
the part of the buckskin brave, who was foolish enough 
to believe he had a last chance to gain his freedom. 


i8o Bounding Horse Comes Into Camp. 

The door leading into the den belonging to the cubs 
still remained partly open and it had just come under the 
notice of the Sioux. 

Naturally, he thought it led to the open air, and when 
his captor’s attention was distracted for just a second or 
two, he took advantage of the golden opportunity. 

The way he went through that small opening was 
startling, to say the least, and it had been done so like a 
flash that Cuthbert could not have fired, even had he been 
possessed of the desire. 

Alas for Bounding Horse! His star appeared to be 
on the decline, for he jumped directly out of the frying- 
pan into the fire. 

It so chanced that the wretched cubs, upon finding 
themselves of small importance in the main dugout, and 
smarting under the hurts they had received, had taken 
advantage of the opportunity extended and crept through 
the opening to their own delightful den, where they could 
feel at home and hope to nurse their woes in peace. 

Cuthbert was perhaps the only one who had noticed 
their withdrawal from, the scene, and when he saw the 
Indian dash pell-mell into the little retreat he rather an- 
ticipated that the wretched Bounding Horse was in for 
another peck of trouble. 

And he found it, too. 

‘‘Holy smoke!” shouted Old Sile, hardly knowing 
whether to laugh or get angry when he heard the racket 
break out afresh, and with more vigor than before, since 
the cubs, being at home, were ready to scratch and snarl 
with redoubled violence, “that fool Injun ain’t had enough 
yet I reckon. Bring the light, lad, afore they everlast- 
ingly spile his beauty for him.” 

Sure enough, the dusky son of the wilderness was once 
more rolling over and over, pounding at the baby grizzlies 


Bounding Horse Comes Into Camp. i8i 

and putting up a fair specim'en of fight, now that he 
knew the nature of his foes. 

Had he possessed his knife it would have gone hard 
with the clumsy pets. 

Old Sile once more threw them aside, and, at Karl’s 
rebuke, they subsided into so many hairy little masses of 
growls and whines. 

The Indian held out both hands. 

“Tie um up — me have trouble enough.’* 

And Cuthbert concluded the fellow was wise beyond his 
looks. 

“Put ’em behind your back — so. Now, it’s been some 
time since I trussed up a feller this way, but I reckon I 
ain’t clean forgot how. To larn them things once lasts a 
lifetime. Thar, ye are safe enough now, my gallant 
buck. Stay thar until mornin’.” 

The captured Indian was made to sit down in a corner ; 
his bronzed and paint-bedaubed face expressed no emo- 
tion, though he furtively watched Old Sile, as though a 
little suspicious of the benevolent intentions of the ranger. 

Looking at the matter from an Indian’s standpoint, he 
deserved the most severe punishment when caught in the 
act of thievery. The law of the border visited this crime 
with death, and it was hard for this untutored brave to 
understand what the white man meant to do with him. 

Old Sile drew the boys aside. 

They had come through the excitement in good order, 
and were now deeply concerned as to their further plans. 

Danger lurked without ; this fellow had companions of 
some sort nearby, whether Sioux braves like himself or 
the two ex-cowboys, it mattered little, since they were one 
and all hostile to our friends and envious of their posses- 
sions. 

Old Sile had thus far successfully guided their craft 


i 82 Bounding Horse Comes into Camp. 

amid the storms, and now, with breakers ahead, it re- 
mained to be seen how the pilot would avoid a wreck. 

“Wall, this is a pooty kettle o’ fish,” was the first re- 
mark he made, after studying the faces of the boys to see 
whether they were alarmed by the conditions confronting 
them. 

He found them' both eager-eyed and wideawake, ap- 
parently ready to back him up in any scheme he might 
propose, and developing no traces of serious “staggers.” 

“It winds up our hunt to-morrow, for one thing, you 
bet,” said Karl, positively. 

“Yas, that’d be folly. We’ve got only one thing to 
think of now,” remarked Sile. 

“How to levant.” 

“Exactly, Cuthbert — to vamose the ranch without 
failin’ into the hands o’ the Philistines.” 

“We’ve got him as security,” nodding in the direction 
of the prisoner. 

“True enough, but knowin’ that feller Caleb Cross, if 
so be he’s here, ye can feel sure he’d never let the life o’ a 
heathen stand in the way o’ gettin’ booty. We must be 
on the safe side.” 

“You’ve got a plan, then?” 

The old man smiled at the quick manner in which they 
read him. 

“I’m hatchin’ one, even now. You boys have seen 
braves afore. Ye know what that beastly paint on his 
face means, and the feathers fastened in his hair ?” 

“He’s on the warpath. They never do that when just 
hunting,” spoke up Cuthbert, whose long stay against his 
will in a Sioux village had given him knowledge con- 
cerning many of the customs peculiar to these people. 

“Right you are. That pint’s settled, then. Bounding 
Hoss never came up here to hunt, but to raid our camp. 
That proves he knew we was in the valley, an’ that Cross 


Bounding Horse Comes Into Camp, 183 

an’ the Greaser Pepito, with perhaps other bucks, are 
along. IPs best to look the wust in the face, an’ then ye 
ain’t ever flabbergasted, so to speak.” 

The boys agreed with him, catching his sentiment all 
right. 

“Now, my plan is this: To-morrow we stick close to 
camp, cuttin’ wood and doin’ of the chores as usual while 
outside. Meanwhile in here we’ll git everything ready 
to make a sudden start.” 

“Yes,” said Cuthbert, nodding eagerly. 

“Then when it gits dark two o’ us kin steal out an’ 
bring up the boats, which we’ll load in three shakes o’ a 
sheep’s tail, an’ be off down the creek.” 

In imagination they could see it all, and should the 
plan prove as successful as they had a right to expect 
their enemies must speedily be left in the lurch. 

“Any suggestions?” asked the veteran, as he applied a 
match to his pipe. 

“Only one,” said Karl, “and that is you let me go with 
you to get the boats.” 

“Wall, I reckon that would be the best thing all around. 
Consider it settled, as ye are more accustomed to a pad- 
dle than Cuthbert. In course, somethin’ may happen to 
throw us back, but until it does, why we’ll count the thing 
arranged.” 

“And sihall we take the prisoner along?” 

“Bless you, no. We’ll fix him so he can’t give the 
alarm, and leave him here.” 

“How about Rags and Tatters?” anxiously from Cuth- 
bert, who had learned to have something of an affection 
for the little rascals. 

Old Sile shook his head. 

“It can’t be did, youngster. I’d like mighty well to 
oblige ye, but when our lives may be at stake it would 


i 84 Bounding Horse Comes Into Camp. 

be foolish to run more chances for the sake o' them 
b’ars." 

Cuthbert was sensible enough to look at it in the 
proper light, much as he regretted the necessity for los- 
ing his pets. 

“How shall we get rid of them ?” he asked. 

“Easy enough. Turn ’em loose arter nightfall. The 
natur' o' the animal will teach ’em what to do. I de- 
clar to Moses, it wouldn’t surprise me a bit if both o’ 
them bars went straight back to the ole cave in the 
coulie.” 

So they talked on. 

Cuthbert managed to keep one eye on the rear of the 
dugout, where already a wolf and a real live Indian had 
found entrance. 

Old Sile had kindled the fire afresh, so that it was now 
roaring cheerfully, and throwing up such intense heat 
that there was really no chance of any other Indian, how- 
ever rash, attempting to imitate the strange example of 
Bounding Horse. 

That individual sat with his back propped up against 
the wall, his small, keen black eyes watching those who 
held the council of war, as though he believed his own 
miserable fate was the subject that engrossed their at- 
tention. 

“What time is it?” asked the pilot. 

Cuthbert looked at his watch. 

“Nearly a half after one.” 

“Later than I thought. Now you boys jest pile back 
into bed and git some sleep.” 

“But — the danger ! The fire must be kept up ^and that 
chap looked after.” 

“An’ I’m the one to do all that, don’t ye forgit it. Not 
another word, now; when I git sleepy an’ want ye to 
turn out I’ll rouse ye up. Tumble in thar.” 


Bounding Horse Comes Into Camp. 185 

There was no gainsaying the old man when he had set 
his stubborn mind upon a thing, and, having had experi- 
ence in this line before, the boys knew their only duty was 
to obey. 

Old Sile filled his pipe again, and, with his gun close 
to his hand, sat down to take it easy — this being on 
guard brought back old times to his mind, and he really 
enjoyed the situation keenly. 

Always those beady eyes of the Indian were fastened 
upon him, as though Bounding Horse sought to make 
out what was next on the programme, and how he fared 
in the plans arranged between the three trappers. 

So the long night droned away. 

Several times Cuthbert awoke and raised his head to 
take an observation, on every occasion discovering the old 
guide still enjoying his pipe and watching the flames 
playing merrily among the fire logs, while the prisoner 
had, to all appearances at least, fallen fast asleep, for his 
head lay low, his chin in conjunction' with his breast. 

Long did Cuthbert stare at that picture. He wished 
to carry it with him for the future, since this was to be 
their last night under the hospitable shelter of the old 
dugout roof. 

In times to come, when scenes that were vastly difler- 
ent surrounded him, perhaps the pomp and vanity of so- 
ciety, or it might be the historical associations of the Old 
World, his heart would annihilate space, and memory 
again carry him back to the glorious winter spent with 
trap and rifle in the great wilderness of the Far North- 
west, to this same humble but much beloved camp, where 
his spirit had so long communed with Nature in her 
most savage garb. 

When Cuthbert for the third time opened his eyes he 
saw daylight streaming in through the slits in the shut- 
ter. A delightful aroma of coffee permeated the at- 


i86 Bounding Horse Comes Into Camp. 

mosphere within the dugout, and announced breakfast as 
on the road toward completion. 

Old Sile allowed the Indian a chance to dispose of his 
frugal meal and then trussed him up again like a tur- 
key ready for the spit. 

“Don’t worry a mite/’ said the ranger, as they sat 
there eating, “thar’s nothin’ to be afraid of. We’ll jest 
be keerful not to wander away, an’ allers keep a hand on a 
gun. Depend on it, them piratical craft have hauled oil 
an’ mean to wait for night to swoop down on us. 
P’raps,” with his old chuckle, “they’ll find us missin’.” 


CHAPTER XV. 


THE FLIGHT FROM THE HAPPY LAND. 

Then beg'an a day that Cuthbert would long remem- 
ber as without doubt the most intensely disagreeable of 
his life. 

Suspense was with them every minute. 

There could be no telling when a storm might break 
over their heads. 

These unprincipled scamps had little respect for hu- 
man life, and might at any moment decide to employ ex- 
treme measures. 

When Cuthbert was outside cutting wood or doing 
some of the chores he felt as though many hostile eyes 
were fastened eagerly upon his every act from behind the 
myriad pine trees, and that possibly some rifle covered 
him with a yearning, itching finger on the trigger that 
only wanted permission to open the ball. 

No wonder the boy was nervous. 

Why, it was worse than any experience he had ever 
passed through. 

Even his close call with the blizzard had not affected 
him this way. 

Then again, when it was his turn to be in the dugout 
he felt dreadfully worried about those outside. 

What if Karl should be made a victim to the passions 
of that miserable arch plotter, Caleb Cross? 

He actually groaned at the thought. 

Still, noon came and went, without any sign from the 
enemy. 

Everything seemed as usual around the camp, though 


1 88 The Flight from the Happy Land. 

it was only by an effort that the boys refrained from be- 
traying their state of mind. 

The pile of wood increased, until it seemed as though 
there was enough for at least a full week. 

This was Old Sile’s diplomacy. 

He knew such action as this was well calculated to 
throw the enemy off the track, since it seemed to settle 
the fact that the three trappers meant to remain in Para- 
dise Camp that long, at least. 

As a usual thing, men do not deliberately go to the 
trouble of cutting a week’s supply of firewood unless they 
expect to enjoy its use — that is, save on rare occasions, 
when they have a deep object in view. 

When Old Sile was in the open he had shown some 
natural curiosity in looking for tracks. 

He found them, too, and with that wonderful faculty 
possessed in such a marked degree by men of the old 
school of borderers, from, the time of Cooper’s Leather 
Stockings down, he read the signs as a scholar might 
a printed page. 

While they ate their lunch he told the result of his 
scrutiny to the boys. 

He made out that both Caleb Cross and the Mexican 
were nearby. The one wore heavy boots, the other high- 
heeled Mexican affairs. Besides, there were a number 
of others, three or four Indians, at the least, who left the 
tracks of moccasins. 

This was pleasant, indeed ! 

And doubtless these worthies were even then in con- 
sultation, deep in the coulee or some other retreat, devis- 
ing means as to how best they might make an overwhelm- 
ing assault upon the fur gatherers, without assuming too 
much risk, for such men usually care a precious lot for 
their worthless bodies. 

Cuthbert plucked up hope. 


The Flight from the Happy Land. 189 

Since the morning had passed without an alarm, there 
was good reason to believe that the balance of the day 
might be as free from trouble. 

The prisoner had kept a dead silence. 

He ate when they gave him the opportunity, and doubt- 
less would have much enjoyed a chance to make a dash 
for freedom, but the door was closed, and one of the trio 
held a gun in his hands all the time he remained with his 
arms unbound. 

The packing was finished. 

What they intended taking along with them had been 
made up in compact shape, so that the various bundles 
could* be transferred to the dugouts in the briefest pos- 
sible time 

The Indian watched all this. 

His beady eyes snapped with intelligence, even though 
his face expressed no emotion. 

To him the hustling sound of the ringing axe without 
was but a hollow mockery, for he was upon the inside. 

He knew full well that this industry was undertaken 
with the evident intention of deceiving those who un- 
doubtedly kept a watch upon all operations. 

What would he not have done for the privilege of 
sharing his knowledge with the others? But those mis- 
erable bonds effectually prevented this. So he had to 
take it out in looks. 

When Cuthbert was inside he amused himself with 
the bear cubs. 

Never had the clumsy little brutes seemed so full of 
mischief, and it actually gave the boy a pang to realize 
that they must part company before many hours. 

Perhaps it was just as well, since ere long they would 
have grown too large for pets, and must have ended their 
lives in some circus or zoo. 

Much of the culinary department was to be abandoned. 


190 The Flight from the Happy Land. 

It had served its purpose and they could not be bothered 
with so many kettles and tin dishes that were apt to rat- 
tle together and betray their movements to the enemy. 

Old Sile miade a cache in the rear of the dugout, where 
he secreted them, hoping to utilize them should fortune 
ever tempt him to spend another trapping season in Para- 
dise Valley. 

The space originally occupied by stores, long since 
eaten up, was now available for the compact bundles of 
furs. 

Old Sile had abandoned all that were in a poor condi- 
tion, or about which he had doubts, not caring to give 
them room in the boats. 

He carefully divided the impediments, so that by long 
odds the larger share should go in the boat with him. 

Everything being reduced to scientific order, no hitch 
was anticipated. 

Of course, the greatest danger lay in their embarking. 

Would the enemy remain at a distance until the night 
was well advanced, so as to lessen the chances of discov- 
ery ? 

This was what our friends desired, what they one and 
all ardently prayed for. 

Cuthbert would not be happy until they were well on 
their way down the stream, when they could laugh at 
danger. 

How slowly the afternoon waned. 

Cuthbert even imagined that some modern Joshua 
must have commanded the sun to stand still over Gideon’s 
hills, for each time he took an observation that glowing 
orb seemed in almost the same place. 

His sorrow about leaving the camp was for the time 
being overwhelmed by his eager desire to escape the 
threatening danger. 

Later on it would be time enough for regrets. 


The Flight from the Happy Land. 191 

For the last time he looked around upon those familiar 
scenes, when evening was drawing nigh. 

Never more would he behold them, yet long would the 
picture rise before his mind of that comfortable camp 
in the valley of the gods. 

An early supper was scheduled, so that they could be- 
gin operations as soon as it was really dark. 

Old Sile carried in the regular supply ox wood to last 
through the night. 

He was more than usually noisy about it, hoping to at- 
tract attention, so that his act might lull any suspicions 
to sleep. 

Karl served as chef. 

Of course, they must carry coffee-pot, frying-pan and 
a few necessary things along with them. These could 
be wrapped up with the pelts in such a way that they 
were not apt to give forth any jingling sound. 

The meal was eaten almost in dead silence. 

Some heavy weight seemed to rest upon their spirits ; 
no one could exactly define the feeling, but conversation 
lagged. 

When they were through it remained only to feed the 
great Bounding Horse, and while this operation went on* 
Old Sile guarded him with a gun in his hand. 

Everything was working well up to this point, and he 
did not mean to have the fellow make a break for liberty 
and injure their plans if by due vigilance it could be 
avoided. 

Then he set to work tying the brave hand and foot, and 
even gagging him, so that it would be impossible for him 
to shout. 

Later on, when his friends made an entry, he could at- 
tract their sympathetic attention by groans ; but ere that 
time came the three fugitives hoped to be far away. 

It was now growing dark. 


192 The Flight from the Happy Land. 

Luckily enough, there would be no moon to betray their 
secret flight. 

Quite a breeze had blown during the day, and it was 
fondly hoped that this would continue into the night. 

The stronger it blew the better, since with such a 
rustling among the branches of the trees any little noise 
they might chance to make would be less likely to be 
overheard. 

Cuthbert had quietly opened the outer door of the 
bear’s “boudoir,” and pushed his pets into the open air. 

He never expected to see them again. 

Some day, doubtless, grown into fierce monsters, they 
would meet the usual fate of their species at the muzzle 
of a hunter’s deadly rifle. 

It was now about time to make the first move looking 
toward evacuation. 

Old Sile stood up and tightened his belt. 

Karl knew what this meant^ and picked up his gun in 
silence. 

The old ranger looked a little stem, but, seeing the 
anxious expression on the face of Cuthbert, he allowed 
his own angular phiz to relax in a smile. 

“It’s all right, younker. Don’t worry a mite. While 
we’re gone, fasten the door o’ the den arter us, and then 
carry the rest o’ the goods in than The fire would be- 
tray us if we left this door open. Now, look sharp, and 
listen for our signal on the bear door.” 

When the connecting door was closed it was as dark 
as Egypt in the little dugout recently used as headquar- 
ters for the cubs. 

Cuthbert let his comrades out and then once more se- 
cured the door. 

He was alone! 

There seemed something awful in the very thought. 



‘“This way, quick boys! All creation’s bein’ warmed up. Them 
onery skunks have been here an’ fired the heap o’ brush alongside the 
cabin.’” See page 96. 



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The Flight from the Happy Land. 193 

when taken in conjunction with the presence of danger 
outside. 

He could not bear to think of it. 

To occupy his mind he set to work as Old Sile had 
suggested, transferring the goods to the small cave, where 
they were placed as before, in two separate piles. 

This task occupied some little time. 

He was conscious that a pair of snappy black eyes 
watched his every move, and while the helpless Sioux 
brave could not express himself in words, doubtless he 
thought a great deal. 

There he lay like a bundle of pelts, able to breathe 
and that was about all. 

Cuthbert hoped his friends would set him free in due 
time — not too soon, so as to endanger the safety of the 
fugitives, but say at midnight or second cock crow, for 
he should not like to think of the poor wretch as utterly 
abandoned there, his bones to be discovered by some 
roving hunter years hence. 

Was it time for the others to return? 

Cuthbert began to grow anxious. 

Looking at his watch, he found they had been absent 
just half an hour. 

Then he remembered that it usually took him about 
that time to walk to and from the pond. 

On this occasion they had to paddle the two empty 
boats up against a strong current, and do it in a manner 
so as not to attract attention. Perhaps it would be well 
to allow them, say, another twenty minutes. 

When this, too, had slipped away he became conscious 
of a dread that words could not begin to express. 

What had happened ? 

A dozen things came before his disturbed mind like 
ghostly visitors. 


194 The Flight from the Happy Land. 

Perhaps the boats were missing, having been discov- 
ered and stolen by the enemy. 

Could the allies have laid a trap so cunningly arranged 
that even an old campaigner like Sile had fallen into it ? 

Unable to sit still longer, Cuthbert walked up and down 
the dugout, finding in exercise some relief to his strained 
nerves. 

He held fast to his gun, determined that if necessity 
compelled him to fight he would give such an account of 
himself as would not bring dishonor upon his illustrious 
name. 

The thought of taking human life was terrible to the 
lad ; but there are times in the lives of those to whom ad- 
venture falls when such weaknesses are crowded to the 
wall, and the sterner nature, inherited from forefathers 
wiho had to face dangers almost daily, comes uppermost. 

Was that the signal knock? 

Cuthbert stood still to listen. Then he went to the 
door of the sub-cave to bend his ear attentively, while his 
very heart seemed to stand still with anxiety. 

It was not repeated, so he was forced to conclude that 
the sound he had heard must have been the sighing of the 
wind through the pines, or the gurgle of the swollen 
creek. 

As the minutes crept on apace, poor Cuthbert's anxiety 
grew in proportion, since he felt almost positive some- 
thing must have happened. 

Meanwhile, let us see what progress was being made 
by those- wtho had gone for the boats. 

Old Sile led the way. 

There was, of course, some danger of discovery, but he 
did not believe it would come to pass. At a^ut this 
hour he fancied the allies would be gathered around some 
fire in a portion of the coulee where the light might not 


The Flight from the Happy Land. 195 

serve to betray them, and eating »supper while they ar- 
ranged their plans for a surprise party later in the night. 

He only wished most fervently that the boats were even 
now at the landing and being loaded. Once free from 
the immediate neighborhood of the dugout their pace in- 
creased. 

Old Sile was more anxious than he would have cared 
to confess when they drew near the reeds where he had 
secreted the boats. 

There was a small chance that the craft might have 
been discovered, and should this prove to be the case it 
must turn out a very serious calamity for them. 

Of course, Old Sile was the man to •meet and over- 
come any emergency, but he had reached an^age of dis- 
cretion, when peace was far preferable ’to turmoil, and he 
sincerely hoped the boats would be where he left them. 

It was even so. 

Karl never looked with greater pleasure upon the dug- 
outs than now. 

Near by the paddles had been artfully hidden in a 
hollow tree. 

These being secured, each of them selected a boat, and, 
entering, began to push through the dead reeds and 
grass, which, parting before the prow of the boat, closed 
again back of the stern. 

The creek was gained. 

Here they met the current and had to settle down to 
business. 

The water was high and the tide fierce indeed, so that 
a little experience in bucking against its power gave them 
to understand that a sturdy setting pole was of greater 
value here than a broad blade. 

Accordingly, the paddles were laid aside, and they be- 
gan poling their way upstream. 

It was laborious work at best. 


iq6 The Flight from the Happy Land. 

No wonder Cuthibert grew heartsick waiting for their 
coming, and paced the cabin, listening anxiously for some 
sound to indicate that his comrades had succeeded in 
their undertaking. 

Foot by foot they had to work their way along, while 
the waters boiled around. 

It was like ascending the rapids; indeed, there were 
places where the labor was quite as heavy. 

Good muscle can accomplish wonders when properly 
applied, and in due time the two clumsy dugouts drew 
near the spot where our friends had first made a landing 
in Paradise Valley. 

Now it 'behooved them to use additional caution in all 
their movements. 

All of them had agreed that should they be attacked at 
any time they were to put up the very best article of fight 
they could. 

Straining their eyes through the darkness, they began 
to see familiar landmarks. 

Here was a pine that leaned over the creek at an angle 
of forty-five degrees, from which Old Sile had once 
knocked a wild cat that had diark designs upon their 
larder — beyond a queer formation, very like a gigantic 
crow’s nest, being the top of a freak tree, was outlined 
against the starry heavens, and finally they made out the 
three sister pines, that marked the old landing near camp. 

The journey upstream had been carried to a comple- 
tion, and thus far all seemed well. 

It was cause for congratulation indeed. 

Carefully the boats were secured. 

Shortly after two dark figures crept up to the hillside, 
and a scratching noise was made upon a door partly 
screened by a mass of hanging vines, 

Cuthbert’s heart beat high with rekindled hope when 
this sound reached his ear, and eagerly did he fly to open. 


The Flight from the Happy Land. 197 

The first sound that greeted him' was a whisper of 
caution from the veteran that hinted of peril being nigh ; 
but, happy in welcoming them back, the Virginian had 
cared little for the danger, so long as they could meet it 
together. 

He dreaded being alone at such a time, a prey to tortur- 
ing thought. 

“Git to work, all hands, an^ kerry the things down to 
the boats. I’ll be thar to pack ’em whar they belong.” 

This was the dictum of the pilot. 

Both boys started eagerly to obey. 

“Don’t forgit yer guns — allers hang on to ’em through 
thick an’ thin — 'best friends a feller kin have in such dif- 
fikilties,” said Sile, in the lowest kind of a tone, that might 
have been mistaken for the wind five feet away. 

It would require quite a few trips to and fro, but all 
this had been reduced to such a system, and the packages 
arranged accordingly, that all that was necessary was for 
them to pick up a load and start forth. 

This was the excruciating part. 

Would hostile eyes discover them? 

If so, how long must the spy be in seeking the camp 
of his fellows and acquainting them' with the fact that 
their quarry was slipping out of the net ? 

The first trip was made successfully, and, so far as they 
could tell, there was no cause for alarm. 

At least. Old Sile announced that “everything was 
lovely and the goose hung high,” and the boys were ready 
to look upon their old and tried guide in the light of a 
prophet. 

They went back, leaving him to stow away the duffle 
where it belonged. 

How dreadfully lonesome the great woods seemed on 
this night. 

Doubtless it was because their imaginations had been 


198 The Flight from the Happy Land. 

so tremendously aroused that even trifles were impressed 
Upon their minds with startling’ force. The wind, whis- 
pering as it sighed across the valley, the distant howl of 
a hungry wolf, the nearby hoot of their old friend in the 
dead wood, him of the startling yellow eyes — all these 
things they had heard many times before, yet never had 
they possessed the same peculiar significance as now. 

It is far fromi a pleasant sensation, this feeling that 
enemies hover behind bushy coverts and bulwark of trees. 

Karl minded it less than his friend, for he had grown 
up with this sort of thing, and had better control over his 
nerves. 

Not that Cuthbert was scared. Had the occasion come 
about he would have proven his valor most convincingly ; 
but this long-continued strain, and the crisis that had now 
descended upon them, when there seemed so much at 
stake, began to have its effect upon his system. He felt 
cold all over, trembled as with the ague, and, had he not 
resolutely gritted his teeth together, they must have rat- 
tled like the aspen leaf. 

This did not prevent him in the least from doing his 
full duty, and, while Karl naturally took the lead, Cuth- 
bert made a good second. 

Again they loaded themselves. 

One more trip, it was calculated, would clean up the 
ranch, and leave (them foot free. 

How Cuthbert wished this was the last lot — he did not 
know when he had felt half so eager to have a little time 
speed by. 

They reached the boats, where Old Sile crouched, rifle 
in hand, eager and grim. 

“Seen anything — heard any suspicious noise ?” he whis- 
pered, hoarsely. 

“Nothing,’’ said Karl, readily enough, but Cuthbert 
dared not trust himself to reply, since he had peopled the 


The Flight from the Happy Land. 199 

woods with a thousand argus-eyed foes that spied upon 
their every move. 

Once more, and for the last time. 

Old Sile guessed 'the nervous condition of the Eastern 
lad, and insisted that he remain by the boats while he 
accompanied Karl back for the last load; and this pro- 
gramme was carried out, though Cuthbert, feeling as 
though he were being tenderly cared for, feebly remon- 
strated. 

They were absent a few minutes, but to the anxious 
lad, crouching there by the water, it was an eternity. 

He fumed because the swollen stream made such a din 
in his ears as to endanger the chances of his hearing 
aught else ; and almost strained his eyeballs to the yerge 
of bursting in the endeavor to see something. 

And his worst fears seemed about to be realized, for, 
without the least warning, there came a sudden detonat- 
ing shot, followed by a shout, that made the echoes ring 
along the valley. 


CHAPTER XVL 


ADRIFT ON THE CURRENT. 

Strange to say, although Cuthbert had been exceedingly 
nervous all through the evening in expectation of some- 
thing dreadful that was about to happen, no sooner did 
the catastrophe come to the front than a wonderful change 
appeared to envelope the lad. 

After that one quiver of startled surprise, he seemed to 
recover in a marvelous degree. 

He had been crouching in one of the boats, and his 
first act was to spring to the shore. 

Then he remembered that Old Sile had given him 
most positive orders before leaving, to the effect that, no 
matter what occurred, he should not desert the boats. 

It was evident that the veteran had even anticipated 
such an emergency as this. 

Old Sile usually covered all possible points, and it was 
this faculty for embracing details that had always 
brought him to the front as the leading spirit and director 
of the grand round-up at Sunset Ranch. 

Cuthbert had never been a soldier, but he came from a 
family justly celebrated for its military history. 

He had long since learned what it was to obey orders 
to the letter. 

Accordingly, the Virginian dropped down there upon 
the bank, awaiting developments. 

There chanced to be a log at the place. Many a time 
he had sat upon it when the fall winds stirred the pines, 
and watched the waters of the creek go hurrying by on 
their zig-zag journey to the Big Horn. 

It served him in this emergency, for back of its shelter- 


Adrift on the Current. 201 

ing dimensions he could crouch and watch for what was 
to come. 

There he remained, quivering with a certain amount of 
eager anxiety, yet showing as bold a front as any one so 
situated could have done. 

After that single shot and the quickly-succeeding shout 
a silence had come upon the scene. Even the owl ceased 
to raise his mournful voice, as though alarmed by the dis- 
turbance, and the prowling wolf far up the valley had 
also reached the termination of his serenade. 

How dreadfully still it was ! 

Only the fretful miurmur of the stream broke the dead 
silence. Even the pines had ceased to rustle with the 
night wind. 

Cuthbert would have given much could he have under- 
stood just what that shot signified. 

Who shouted ? 

He did not believe it was Karl — it had seemed more 
like the voice of an Indian, a whoop such as he had heard 
so many times among the tepees of the wild Sioux when 
a prisoner in the village far above the Bad Lands, that 
lay to the north of the cattle ranges. 

Had Ole Sile shot the spy? 

Cuthbert did not believe so. 

His reasons were well taken, and did the lad great 
credit. In the first place, he believed he knew the pecul- 
iar detonation of the veteran’s rifle. 

It was one he clung to from old and sacred associa- 
tion, and, when discharged, gave forth a singularly ring- 
ing report. 

Then, again, so far as Cuthbert could determine, the 
shout or whoop that had immediately followed did not 
indicate pain. 

On the contrary, what he knew of Indian nature gave 
him to understand that it was meant as a signal of alarm. 


202 


Adrift on the Current. 


as though the sentry or vidette had suddenly discovered 
what the trappers were in the act of doing, and had dis- 
charged his gun as well as yelled, in the hope and expec- 
tation of bringing his comrades down upon the spot be- 
fore it was everlastingly too late. 

A few seconds crawled along on leaden wings, seconds 
that to the anxious boy seemed almost centuries. 

Then he heard a movement close by. 

Something was stirring through the brush that lay 
between the landing and the dugout, and which had been 
left very much as nature meant it in order to more ef- 
fectually ward off suspicion. 

Cuthbert drew back the hammer of his gun. 

He gritted his teeth together, and his eyes blazed with 
the fires of battle, for, much as he regretted the necessity, 
he was ready to do his duty should the occasion demand. 

Nearer came the sounds. 

His strained vision began to catch glimpses of a mov- 
ing figure, advancing directly toward the spot where he 
lay waiting. 

Cuthbert brought his gun around in that quarter so as 
to be ready for the worst. 

At the same time he did not expect to use it, for just 
back of the moving figure he saw a second. 

They looked more like bears walking on their hind feet 
than human beings, and it was this circumstance that 
brought the waiting lad renewed hope, for he remem- 
bered that his comrades when they came would be loaded 
down with the last of the packages. 

“Sile, is it you?” he asked, quickly, and the answer 
came, as refreshing to his ears as the dew of heaven is 
to the parched grass. 

“You bet, younker.” 

A great load was lifted off the mind of the young Vir- 
ginian. He sprang to the boats in order to receive them, 


Adrift on the Current. 205 

knowing full well that time was of tremendous value 
just now. 

Everything had been arranged for a quick start. Pad- 
dles were in place, so they could be instantly snatched up, 
and the bows of both boats already pointed down stream. 

Neither of the laden voyagers offered any explana- 
tion of the alarm given, nor was such really needed un- 
der the circumstances. 

Old Sile tumbled his bundles into the bow of the first 
boat. 

Karl deposited his burden more in the center of the 
second craft, for there would be two passengers in this 
instance, one forward and the other aft, so the cargo must 
of necessity be stowed amidships in order to trim the 
boat. 

“We're off!" grunted Old Sile. 

Karl gave his boat a push that dislodged her keel from 
its resting-place ashore, and then sprang nimbly in, as it 
was seized upon by the strong current. 

Immediately he took up the paddle. 

Cuthbert heaved a sigh of genuine relief. 

Thus they were borne away from Paradise Camp in 
the dead of night. 

Many times Cuthbert had pictured their departure, and 
always felt that it would be with a feeling of pain and 
reluctance that he would bid farewell to the scene of their 
winter's campaign, which from association had become 
very dear to him. 

Under such circumstances as these, however, he could 
part from the place without any longings or burning re- 
grets, since danger lurked under the pines. 

Indeed, he did not once turn his head to look back. 
Perhaps he knew how useless this would prove, and how 
much more important it was that he should keep his eyes 
to the front in order to discover any peril lurking there. 


Adrift on the Current. 


204 

Shouts began to be heard. 

They came from ithe directi'On of the coulee, and k was 
evident that the signals of the vidette had been both heard 
and understood by the balance of the crowd, and that 
they were now racing pell mell for the camp. 

Old Sile listened eagerly. 

Perhaps their enemies had anticipated some such move 
as this. Perhaps they had even arranged a plan whereby 
they could, by crossing a strip of country, reach the creek 
at a certain point before the fugitives had descended that 
far. 

This was possible enough, for the creek made an eccen- 
tric and tortuous channel, so that in coming home from 
the pond below Cuithibert had learned how to save almost 
half a mile by leaving the creek and cutting across lots. 

The only question was, had the allies been shrewd 
enough to discover this point ? 

Old Sile hoped not. 

It would bring the two hostile parties into close con- 
test, and a desperate fight must ensue, which, for the sake 
of the boys, he would rather be excused from participat- 
ing in. 

That was why he strained his ears to listen so long 
as the shouts sounded, hoping ere they ceased to have 
gotten a pointer as to the plans of their eager enemies. 

And when the whoops and shouts had given way to 
utter silence again, he had reason to believe all was well. 
To the best of his figuring, the allies had headed direct 
for the dugout. 

The way was clear. 

They could leave Paradise Valley without an encoun- 
ter with the desperate spirits who sought to overwhelm 
them for the sake of gain. 

Onward swept the little flotilla. 

Old Sile went in advance. 


Adrift on the Current. 


205 

All the boys had to do was to keep astern and not lose 
sight of the leading boat. 

In order to assist them in the darkness that was espe- 
cially dense under arcades of pines, the pilot had fastened 
a white cloth to the stern of his craft. 

Cuthbert could distinguish this even when no part of 
the boat might be seen. 

He also grasped a second paddle, ready to dip into the 
water should the occasion arise. 

On the way up he had been able to make himself of 
considerable use in this manner, but the condition's were 
changed now, and the friendly current served them in 
lieu of muscular exertion. 

A single swing of the paddle, a turn of the wrist on 
the part of Karl in the stern would change their course 
miraculously, stay their progress and almost hold the boat 
suspended in mid stream, such was the magic of the 
ashen broad blade in experienced hands. 

To the right and to the left, following the winding of 
the stream, they floated. 

How friendly the darkness ! 

At times the trees formed an arch overhead, shutting 
out the inquisitive stars, and on such occasions the gloom 
was so intense that had one been standing on the bank 
not more than five yards distant, it would have been ut- 
terly out of the question to have seen the boats floating by. 

Now and then the stream narrowed, and at such times 
the pace increased, as the water rushed through its nar- 
row channel almost with the flerceness of rapids. 

Then again they would emerge upon a broader ex- 
panse of water, such as constituted the pond where Cuth- 
bert had his adventure with the fishing bear, or that little 
lake formed by the dam of the beaver upstream. 

In these places the current lacked power to keep pace 


Adrift on the Current. 


206 

with their impatient spirits, so that the paddles were 
brought into play with a consequent acceleration of speed. 

After all, it seemed a dramatic and fitting close to their 
season in the valley. 

So many adventures had fallen to their lot while in the 
wilderness, that the ordinary breaking up of camp must 
have seemed rather a tame and prosaic ending to the 
campaign. 

This kind of flight was something to thrill the nerves, 
and while Cuthbert might not wholly enjoy it just now, 
the time would come when it would appeal to his sense of 
the eternal fitness of things. 

And his heart sang with deep joy on another account 
also. 

'He had not wholly realized what a hold the free-swing- 
ing life of a cowboy would have upon him, or how much 
he would miss being in the saddle. 

Why, the mere anticipation of seeing his horse again, 
of stroking his velvety muzzle, of vaulting into the saddle 
and dashing at mad speed over the prairie, dotted with 
myriads of sweet wild flowers, of swinging his hat high 
in air, expanding his lungs and giving vent to those 
shouts that had formerly sent the alarmed cattle forward 
— ^it was just heaven to think of it. 

If he felt that way, what of Karl, the child of the 
prairie, who had never, until now, been really out of sight 
of his native heath ? 

He must have suffered much during these long winter 
months, and rejoiced exceedingly now at the glorious 
prospect ahead. 

Karl was a lad of few words, and seldom revealed his 
thoughts, so that even his chum did not know how much 
he yearned for the life to which he was accustomed. 

When they had passed the pond long to be associated 
in Cuthbert’s mind with trout and bear, and entered the 


Adrift on the Current. 


207 

stream beyond, Old Sile felt sure they were not to be am- 
bushed by the allies. 

Doubtless these innocent worthies had rushed to the 
dugout and found there only the prisoner. 

This fellow would, of course, soon put them into pos- 
session of the facts concerning the case. But what good 
would that do? They could hardly hope to overhaul the 
fugitives by chasing along the banks, for below the pond 
the sides of the hills began to grow exceedingly rough, 
even precipitous in places, and progress in the daytime 
was not very rapid, while on such a dark night it was 
next to impossible. 

Although Old Sile spoke not a word concerning the 
matter, there was one unsolved problem that gave him 
more or less concern. 

How had Caleb Cross and his fellows come to the 
Happy Valley region. 

If over the hill by some trail known only to his Indian 
allies, it was all right. 

On the other hand, could they have ascended the creek 
in bull boats (Indian craft made of buffalo hides, and as 
serviceable as a dugout, while weighing but a third as 
much, though less commodious) ? 

If this were true, he knew full well the end of their 
adventure had not yet been reached. 

These fellows had much of the pertinacity that dis- 
tinguishes the wolf. They would start in hot pursuit, and 
exhaust every possible endeavor in the hope of overtaking 
the birds that had so neatly slipped out of the cage. 

So Old Sile made it a point to keep his gun where he 
could place his hand upon it in a big hurry, should: the 
occasion arise. 

He also directed Karl to shove his canoe alongside — 
the creek was plenty wide enough for the two boats 
abreast, and should it narrow again they were apt to be 


2o8 


Adrift on the Current. 


warned in time by the rushing and swishing sound ot 
water forced through the narrow neck of the bottle. 

‘‘HowVe ye feeling, younkers?'' he asked, in his 
kindly way. 

“Happy as a lord,’' announced Cuthbert. 

Karl said “ditto,” not caring to tell just how the hot 
blood swarmed through his veins at the delightful pros- 
pect of soon throwing a leg over Buckskin, and rushing 
over the level as in days of yore, his vigorous quirt snap- 
ping in the air, his cheery “so long” sent out to every 
cow puncher met upon the trail. 

“I kinder reckon as how we got the jump on ’em that 
time, an’ they’ll have to hustle some to ketch us up,” re- 
marked Old Sile. 

Cuthbert was quick to see a vein of meaning under- 
neath these words. 

“Then, you expect them to follow us ?” 

“Wall, I shouldn’t be surprised a bit,” was the laconic 
answer. 

The boy’s heart fell. The prospect did not appear so 
bright as before, since Old Sile admitted that they were 
not yet out of the woods; but the pilot was a bit “old 
fogy” in his ways, and believed in an extra allowance of 
caution. There might be a chance in ten of this thing 
happening, but why borrow trouble? 

He wanted to know more. It was always his way to 
desire to investigate. 

“How will they follow?” he asked. 

“Perhaps by water. It depends on how the critters 
come into the valley.” 

What he meant to imply was plain enough — Caleb 
Cross and his red pirates might have canoes secreted 
somewhere along the creek, and even then be spinning 
down stream in hot chase. 

“What a pity.” he said, dejectedly. 


Adrift on the Current, 209 

“Eh, what's that, lad?” asked Sile, knowing he had 
something on his mind. 

“That we couldn't have discovered their boats as we 
came along, and either carried them off in tow or else 
destroyed them.” 

“Well said, younker. Good for you. It'd have given 
me a good deal o’ pleasure to have run across the canoes, 
for if they're huffier hide a sharp knife would a done the 
business for 'em in short order ; but that wasn’t to be our 
luck, an' I reckon as we shouldn't complain. We’ve kim 
out o' the 'fair with credit so far. What if they had dis- 
covered our boats, hey?” 

Thus Cuthbert was brought up with a round turn, for 
what the old philosopher had remarked was to the point. 
If everything bad not come their way, at least they had 
abundant reason to feel grateful. 

“You’re right, Sile. But it would have been a fine bit 
of strategy if we could have spiked their guns in that 
way — it would have cut off all pursuit,” he said, loath to 
give up the idea wholly. 

“Well, p’raps the opportunity may turn up yet, who 
knows. Meanwhile we’ll make all the time we kin by usin' 
the paddle whenever we find a chance.” 

Cuthbert said no more. 

Indeed, it was necessary that he pay considerable atten- 
tion to what lay beyond, for they knew not what had 
taken place so far down the stream in the months that 
had) passed since they worked up from the Big Horn 
river, and to run slap up against a rock, or a log that 
had become caught fast, was a possibility that suggested 
an upset. 

A wet jacket was something not to be desired by any 
of them, and hence it behooved the cruisers to keep a 
sharp lookout for snags. 

The strain upon both eyes and muscles was intense. 


210 


Adrift on the Current, 


Cuthbert wondered how long they would keep it up. 
He tried to remember just the length of time it took 
them to ascend the creek after leaving the picturesque 
Big Horn, and then figured that at this pace, borne along 
on the swollen current, they should reach the junction of 
the streams after midnight, at least long before the first 
peep of dawn lighted the eastern sky. 

By the time this had been attained they would in all 
probability be ready to cry out ‘"enough” and seek somi; 
recuperation in sleep. 

Perhaps Old Sile might bring to bear upon the novel 
situation some of his old-time Indian strategy, and ar- 
range a plan whereby the flight could be maintained even 
while they rested, though the difficulty of navigating the 
eccentric river would preclude their attempting to float 
down its swift bosom while asleep. 

There was time enough to grapple with these prob- 
lems when they presented themselves for solution. 

Meanwhile it required all their powers of energy and 
observation to keep clear from the dangers that menaced 
them along the lower creek. 

There were huge bowlders which none of them could 
remember having seen before, but nevertheless they 
threaitened to end the cruise then and there unless vigor- 
ous measures were taken to avoid a meeting. 

Cuthbert had keen eyes, and his was the voice usually 
firsit raised in warning when some such peril confronted 
them. 

Anon it was a tree that had given way and formed a 
bridge across the creek, under which the boats were able 
to pass only after some little time and trouble had been 
taken to clear away the debris which the current had 
banked up against this barrier. 

It was exhaustive work, especially since the boys had 
had no sleep after a day and night of unusual anxiety. 


Adrift on the Current. 


2U 


For one, Cuthbert felt he would be ready to cry hurrah 
when the last bend had been turned, and the twin dug- 
outs floated upon the broader waters of the Big Horn. 

Ere they reached the fort, so far away, other dangers 
might encompass them, for the Indians were growing 
exceedingly bold under old Sitting Bull, and needed to 
be taught a severe lesson. 

Later on in this same year there was destined to be 
fought that famous battle of the Little Big Horn, when 
valiant Custer, known along the border as Yellow Hair, 
and his three hundred equally brave troopers were to be 
surrounded by a horde of the hostiles, and cut down to 
a man ; so it can be understood that it was a season when 
peril was unusually rampant, and the danger of a pilgrim 
hunter, miner, or cowboy off the trail losing his ‘‘thatch” 
doubly threatening. 

They must have put miles behind them. 

The stars still shone, and as the banks drew fur- 
ther apart, owing to the widening of the creek bed after 
other brooks had drained into it, they had better chances 
to view the blue arch above, and to note the spangled 
dome that shut them in like a canopy. 

More than once Cuthbert fervently wished they had no 
fears of pursuit. 

He would have enjoyed very much going ashore in 
many an inviting spot, making a camp fire and rolling up 
in a blanket, and believed he could sleep until sunrise 
without a break. 

It reminded him of the time he had tried moose calling 
with a Penobscot Indian guide upon one of the myriad 
mystic ponds of Maine, and though they paddled, and 
“called” through the birch horn until midnight, they only 
had the satisfaction of a distant answer, which material- 
ized into nothing tangible. 

As on that occasion, his limbs grew stiff with the cold, 


212 


Adrift on the Current. 


and the cramped manner in which he was compelled to 
squat in the boat; only then he had the delightful assur- 
ance of a warm camp and a supper at the end of his 
cruise, while now such things were only tantalizing 
memories. 

Still, a good blanket is not to be despised when one 
finds an opportunity to roll up in its generous folds, and 
Cuthbert yearned to have that chance come his way. 

Each of them had already wrapped a blanket about 
their shoulders, the better to resist the chill midnight 
air as they swept down the stream, homeward bound. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


THE LONE VIDETTE, 

The further they descended the creek the stronger the 
current grew, since its waters received constant rein- 
forcement from smaller tributaries. 

Cuthbert could not get his bearings. 

To him it was all Greek, for he found himself utterly 
unable to recognize any portion of the surrounding coun- 
try. 

True, the light was nothing to boast of, but a familiar 
scene would have appealed irresistibly to his memory. 

It mattered little, since he had the utmost confidence 
in the sturdy old pilot, and, besides, they must surely 
sooner or later reach the Big Horn if they continued to 
slide down the current of Paradise Creek. 

Strange what a bitter chill comes with midnight’s hour. 
Even in summer months it is often felt, and at this time 
of year penetrates the very marrow. 

This was especially true when upon the water, and 
moving at the rate of six miles an hour, as they some- 
times believed was the case, when the water foamed and 
gurgled around them very much as though the canoes 
were shooting rapids. 

All things temporal must have an end, and their de- 
scent of the creek reached its close about an hour or so 
after midnight. 

Even Cuthbert knew it was coming from the manner 
in which the creek widened, for he remembered that 
feature of its topography. 

It was time, he thought, for he really could not have 
stood this thing much longer. His poor teeth rattled like 


The Lone Vidette. 


214 

castanets in the adept hands of a Spanish dancing girl, 
and bis whole body felt miserably stiff. 

Five minutes on shore, with vigorous jumping and 
slapping of arms, would have restored the circulation 
and brought back a warm glow. 

Old Sile gave a grunt. Even he had grown weary of 
the cold voyage and yearned for a snug little camp fire, 
where the chilled members might be toasted. 

Doubtless the veteran disliked this method of sneaking 
away like fugitives from their winter camp ; but his con- 
tact in earlier years with hostile Indians had made him 
a philosopher, so that he cared little as to the means em- 
ployed so long as the desired end was attained. 

They saw the river before them, the stars reflected 
from its swollen tide, the little wavelets gleaming in the 
light from a'bove, as though each were tipped with 
splashes of silver. 

How quickly the boats were turned to glide with the 
current. 

It was a spring freshet. 

There were all manner of things floating on the bosom 
of the historic old Big Horn — trees that had been up- 
rooted and logs that had perhaps lain quietly along the 
banks for years. 

As soon as Sile saw these things he knew to a dead 
certainty that there would be more or less peril in at- 
tempting to float down stream while sleeping in the boats. 

Some audacious snag might at any moment ram one of 
the craft with such disastrous results that the occupants 
would find themselves, as well as the precious cargo, in 
the drink. 

Time was of much value to the fugitives, and even the 
prudent pilot, in his desire to put as much space between 
his party and those who came after, might have decided 


The Lone Vidette. 


215 

to take the chances of floating had it been a warm, sum- 
mer night. 

As it was they must almost perish with cold if this 
thing kept up much longer. 

He was secretly greatly amused over the lack of com- 
plaint on the part of his comrades. They suffered even 
more than he did, but a grim determination locked their 
young lips. 

“Wall, I declar to Moses, this here is cold enough to 
beat the band. I wonder if we couldn’t have a bit o’ fire 
ashore,” he ejaculated, as he slapped his arms together, 
and then quickly fended away from a floating tree that 
appeared especially desirous of nearer acquaintance. 

Cuthbert made an almost inarticulate assent — in fact, 
he could not speak, he was so chilled. 

Seeing which Old Sile knew they must make a change 
in their programme, no matter what dangers it brought 
about. 

“To the other shore,” he said, tersely, for his experi- 
enced eye told him this was better suited to their require- 
ments, having a heavy fringe of bushes, while in places 
the trees now overhung the swollen waters, offering a 
splendid hiding-place for boats, that might baffle ordinary 
search even in the light of day. 

When Cuthbert attempted to get ashore he was sur- 
prised to discover that he felt as stiff and sore as might 
an old man of eighty. 

How good it felt to dance up and down with swinging 
arms, and how the warm blood tingled in his finger tips. 

As soon as they had stirred the engine into renewed 
life, and began to feel as though some energy had been 
aroused, the boats were fastened by their painters and 
securely hidden under the canopy of branches and bushes. 

After which the three picked up blankets, guns and a 
few other things that might come in handy, and set off in 


2i6 


The Lone Vidette. 


search of some nook where they might with impunity 
start a little bit of a blaze. 

It was not so bad, now they were off the water, and 
that chill had been left behind. Still they needed sleep 
the worst kind, and were bent upon taking what chance 
offered. 

Ere long they ran across the place. 

If Old Sile had known of its presence, and was lead- 
ing them directly to it, he could not have done better. 

It filled their requirements, being a rock grotto, where 
the light of a small fire would be utterly invisible to any 
one on the river. 

Here they might arrange their blankets and enjoy a 
richly-earned rest. 

Eagerly they started to find wood, no easy task in the 
cold starlight; but all were accomplished graduates in 
the foraging class, and knew the most likely spots to 
secure plunder of this sort, so that presently a fair-sized 
heap of broken dead branches and what might at some 
time have been driftwood attested to their energy. 

Then Cuthbert served as stoker, a blaze sprang up, 
communicated to the wood, and, behold, the fire was an 
accomplished fact. 

How delightful it felt! What wonderful cheer there 
may be in a merry little blaze ! Cuthbert always believed 
his remote ancestors must have been fire-worshipers of 
some sort, because he had so great an affection for the 
crackling flame that was man’s good friend. 

The frozen world assumed quite a different aspect when 
surveyed from beside a jolly fire, and presently both boys 
felt so drowsy nothing would do but to roll themselves in 
their blankets and obey the sleep god. 

Old Sile, calmly smoking, with a blanket over his 
shoulders, Indian fashion, watched the small fire and 
occasionally glanced over at his charges. 


The Lone Vidette. 


217 

All was still ; not even an owl or a nighthawk disturibed 
the solemn silence. 

The veteran doubtless recalled many nights, just such 
as this, when he lay hidden in some secluded section of the 
vast wilderness. 

After a time, when he had smoked two pipes, he arose, 
and, selecting a soft spot, placed his blanket there. 

Then, with one more glance at the sleeping boys, he 
proceeded to deliberately dislocate the fire, one ember 
going this way, another that, to be trampled on without 
remorse, so that in about sixty seconds not a trace of it 
remained. 

Satisfied, Old Sile crawled under his warmed blanket, 
and was speedily lost to trouble. 

Frequently the veteran awoke from a doze, to lift his 
head and listen attentively, but the night wore on and no 
sound that seemed suspicious to his trained ear came out 
of the forest. 

So at last came the dawn. 

The boys were awake with the first golden shaft which 
the rising sun sent through the trees. 

Already Old Sile had a cheery blaze going, and the 
coffee-pot hung over it, suspended from a steel rod, which 
fitted upon two crotches some two feet above the ground. 

Another day had begun, and once more they would 
have to work hard to outwit the keen-eyed Indian fol- 
lowers of the revengeful Caleb Cross. 

While they ate a frugal breakfast they talked the situa- 
tion over calmly. 

Old Sile wanted suggestions upon which to build the 
foundation of his campaign, and these bright-witted boys 
were capable of helping him out. 

It was finally decided first, that their enemies, having 
been baffled thus far, were in a desperate state of mind, 
and would, no doubt, just as soon ambush them as not; 


2I8 


The Lone Vidette. 


second, that the danger of such a catastrophe must of 
necessity be greater in daylight than when darkness held 
sway over the surface of the Big Horn ; and, third, that 
they were, after all, in no such rushing hurry to reach 
the post that they would be justified in taking these extra 
chances in the matter. 

When these things were added up, the result was a 
resolution to hold the fort, to remain in their present 
snug retreat until once more night had succeeded day. 

Cuthbert was secretly glad, more so than he trusted 
himself to state in words. 

Truth to tell, while the boy was as brave as the average, 
and might even boldly face a foe, he had an instinctive 
dread of unseen dangers, and the very thought of those 
Indians hiding here and there in the bushes, ready to 
greet their coming with a shower of bullets at such close 
range that they could hardly miss, was enough to make 
his flesh creep. 

Of course, there would be no roving around the coun- 
try. 

Old Sile would not hear of this; the danger was too 
great, and they were already compelled to accept enough 
risk. 

One thing, however, he insisted should be done, and 
this was to guard the boats. 

He had an especial interest in the safety of the craft, 
seeing that they contained a goodly store of prize pelts 
that were his property; but, aside from that, the boats 
were almost essential to their escape from this hostile re- 
gion. At any rate, without them it meant a long and 
arduous journey on foot over many leagues of wilderness, 
where peril might lurk. 

He himiself took the first spell, the boys agreeing to re- 
lieve him at noon. 


The Lone Vidette. 219 

So off he went, rifle in hand, and the lads were left 
alone among the rocks. 

The day, luckily, was fair, else they would have suf- 
fered keenly, being without shelter. 

It warmed up after the sun began to get in his work, 
and the fire was kept at low ebb, fed with very dry heart 
of pine, after Sile’s directions, so as to produce but little 
smoke. 

The morning passed tediously enough. 

Karl and Cuthbert talked over their plans and kept a 
bright lookout for danger. 

Not once would the Virginia lad allow his gun to leave 
his side. He believed that this warfare with unscrupulous 
border desperadoes, both red and white, was a serious 
business; and if disasiter came at all, it was most likely 
to strike home when one was unprepared. 

The youngster had a long head upon his shoulders 
surely. 

Toward the middle of the day the fire was revived, 
and a meal cooked. After this Cuthbert made for the 
river, intending to relieve Old Sile, who was on guard 
over the boats. 

A whistle brought the veteran out of his cover. 

“How’s everything, Cuthbert?” he asked, gravely, as 
though he had not seen the boy for a week. 

Cuthbert declared that, so far as he knew, all appeared 
to be lovely. 

“Have you seen anything of the enemy?” he asked 
eagerly, in his turn. 

Old Sile nodded, and said ; 

“Three went past in a boat. I believe they landed down 
below, ’cause they was workin’ in toward this shore as 
they went around the bend yonder.” 

Cuthbert glanced nervously around, but his face had 
no stamp of fear upon it. 


220 


The Lone Vidette. 


'‘They may be searching the shores?” he suggested. 

“Just my idea to a dot, younker.” 

“If they come here?” 

"Lie low.” 

“What if they start to make off with our boats. Shall 
I open on them ?” 

Old Sile grinned. 

“Fm afraid that would be pesky darin', lad. But I 
reckon they aint a goin’ to come. Use your judgment, 
anyhow.” 

The fact that he left Cuthbert there was good evidence 
that he had faith in the hotspur lad. 

At least Cuthbert took it as a compliment when he 
came to examine the facts. 

Left utterly alone upon the river bank, he first of all 
entered the little copse which had served Old Sile for 
shelter. 

Here he found a convenient log which he could strad- 
dle, and be fairly comfortable, at the same time keep his 
eyes fixed upon the boats. 

These latter could be just faintly seen through the in- 
terlocked branches that hung so low over the water’s 
edge. 

It was rather a singular duty, yet Cathbert realized 
how important the safety of the boats was to the success- 
ful ending of their cruise. 

An hour crept by — two of them. 

He could see how far the sun was moving down the 
western sky, and could calculate about the length of time 
that must elapse ere they once more resumed progress. 

Cuthbert would be well pleased when this campaign 
reached its conclusion, and his eyes were once more glad- 
dened with a sight of the welhbeloved Sunset Ranch, 
with its wide range, its lowing herds, careering cowboys, 
and the familiar faces at the stoop. His heart quite 


The Lone Vidette. 


221 


yearned to once more see the precious one who had so 
long been lost — Little Sunshine, the pet of the ranch. 

The charm that had come with the novelty of this 
lonely life in the wilderness bad long since been broken, 
and he did not believe he would care to pass another 
winter trapping. 

Besides, this unpleasant wind-up had done much to- 
ward causing him to regret that he had come, for Cuth- 
bert’s spirit revolted against being hunted like some 
pariah dog or a woK that had stolen a sheep. 

Time dragged along. 

He might have cut the afternoon in twain, and gone 
back to camp, allowing Karl to take his place on vidette 
duty, but what was the use of changing? He felt com- 
fortable enough as it was, and could hold out until dark. 
Besides, Karl worked hard in the boat and needed sleep 
more than he did. 

So he stuck to his post. 

In all this time he had not, up to now, seen anything 
that savored of danger. 

Sounds reached his ears, but they were of the wilder- 
ness only. A squirrel barked, an early blue jay scolded, 
and a prowling fox gave a note of sudden alarm as its 
startled eyes fell upon the figure riding the log. 

Where were the Indians? 

Did they search the shores, expecting that the fugitives 
must have landed for a rest ? 

If so, how came it none had been here? Old Sile had 
not seen any save those in the boat. 

Would they come? 

Cuthbert clutched his gun tighter whenever this 
thought occurred to him, and bent a close scrutiny upon 
the tangle up and down stream, as though fully expecting 
to see some skulking form creep into view, with bead- 
like eyes keenly on the watch. 


222 


The Lone Vidette. 


Wihat was that? 

Surely something sttirred over yonder, for, see, that 
branch still trembled. Was it an Indian creeping toward 
him, and was his presence already known? 

Cuthbert drew back the hammer of his gun, and half 
raised the weapon to his shoulder, only to again lower it 
with a grunt of disgust, mingled with relief, as a lean 
wolf trotted into view, scenting the air as if getting track 
of dinner somewhere to windward. 

When Cuthbert made a move the animal gave a yelp 
of fear and bounded away into the thickest growth. 

The music of running water was constantly in the ears 
of the watcher, for the river had reached a point of its 
natural bed, and found many exposed roots along the 
bank, among which to chum and gurgle. 

It began to grow monotonous. 

Cuthbert wished he had brought his blanket along, not 
that he was cold, but it might have served him as a soft 
cushion, since a vigil of six hours is not conducive to 
comfort, especially when one perches upon a rough log. 

He was so constituted, however, that lacking anything 
did not disturb his peace of mind to any serious extent. 
He did the next best thing and found a loose pelt in one 
of the boats that answered his purpose admirably. 

Lower went the sun. 

Why, this was easy after all, a regular snap, Cuthbert 
mentally assured himself, and he could keep it up in- 
definitely, if need be, so long as dear old Karl profited 
thereby. 

How much he had grown to care for Karl, and what 
rosy visions of a future, spent in the society of this sturdy 
comrade, he conjured up while sitting there astride that 
log. 

One thing was certain — ^they should never be parted, 
save by death, of that Cuthbert felt absolutely certain. 


The Lone Vidette. 223 

Doubtless, Damon often said the same to himself with 
regard to Pythias. 

There was that old nuisance of a lean wolf prowling 
around again. 

Perhaps he had discovered the fact that after all there 
'Was something worth eating in one of the 'boats, and 
thus he hung around, worried because of Cuthbert’s 
guardianship, yet pressed by the pangs of hunger to make 
another attempt to secure the coveted spoils. 

Of course it would be the height of folly to shoot the 
miserable beast. The shot might serve to bring their 
enemies to the scene of action, and it would surely alarm 
his friends in camp, causing them to come galloping 
down in hot haste, under the belief that he was in serious 
trouble of some sort. 

So Cuthbert, who hated the breed like poison, heaved a 
sigh at the necessity -of 'foregoing such a pleasure, and 
resolutely held his fire. 

Then he concluded that the same conditions did not 
hold good with regard to heaving a bit of rock at the 
object of his detestation. 

Accordingly, he bent down and secured a fair-sized 
stone that would, if violently thrown, create considerable 
disturbance among the dead leaves and bushes, doubtless 
sending the skulker away again in mad haste. 

He knew just about where to throw. All the rustling 
had come from oiie spot, and a good cast would send 
the missile directly into the clump. 

His arm was drawn back, the muscles set for a gener- 
ous effort, and he was in the very act of consummating 
the deal, Avhen, as if by magic, he seemed to lose all de- 
sire in the line of arousing consternation in that wolfish 
heart. 

Indeed, some species of black magic seemed to have 
been exercised over the boy, for his extended arm re- 


224 The Lone Vidette. 

mained in its strained positioL and he sat there like a 
statue. 

The reason was very simple. 

When the bushes parted they gave passage, not to the 
lean, hairy body of a lupine skulker, but to the bent foi*m 
of a Sioux Indian brave with his copper-colored face 
'gashed by streaks of war paint. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


HOW cuthbert did it. 

At sight of that painted warrior creeping out of the 
bushes so like a panther nearing his expected quarry, 
Cuthbert actually felt as though his blood had tempo- 
rarily congealed into ice, for a cold shiver ran over him. 

He saw that the fellow was apparently as yet quite 
unaware of his presence, and intuitively realized that if 
he let his arm drop under the weight of the stone the 
movement would in all pro’ ability attract the quick eye. 
of the man who crawled. 

Hence, he made a martyr of himself and continued to 
balance that five-pound rock. 

It would not be for long, he saw. 

The Indian had discovered the boats under the low 
branches. Cuthbert knew this by the way he started, and 
eagerly craned his neck, so that he might see without ex- 
posing himself. 

Was he alone? 

It really looked that way, since by no word or sign did 
he seek to convey a knowledge of his lucky find to an- 
other. 

His dusky face glowed with satifaction, and doubtless 
his black eyes fairly scintillated in the overwhelming joy 
of his savage soul. 

Found at last! 

Here were the two boats they sought, laden with treas- 
ure, and abandoned by their crews, who had doubtless 
fled across country to the fort, fearing lest the whole of 
Sitting Bull’s tribe was in arms, camped on their trail. 

Perhaps the most glorious visions of loot rushed into 


226 


How Cuthbert Did It. 


the mind of that lone scout as he crouched there, craning 
his neck and surveying the outlines of the boats so snugly 
esconced under the canopy of branches. Why should 
it be necessary at ^11 for him to announce his rich dis- 
covery to the balan^ of his confederates ? Let them find 
a bonanza for themselves; one man’s luck should be as 
good as another’s any day. 

Perhaps he reasoned in this strain, for Indian nature 
ordinarily is selfish, and the temptation in this case well- 
nigh irresistible. 

Let them find their own lode; he was entitled to his 
treasure by right of first discovery. 

Of course, the covetous fellow was not long content to 
worship his idol at a distance. 

Seeing no sign of an enemy near the boats, he began an 
eager advance, and was speedily alongside the nearer 
craft. 

Of course, when his back chanced to be turned toward 
Cuthbert, the boy got rid of the stone he had held out 
at arm’s length with such heroism; but he was mighty 
careful how he dropped it to earth. 

This allowed him the opportunity he craved to clutch 
his Winchester eagerly and throw back the hammer. 

After which he heaved a sigh of genuine satisfaction, 
born of power. 

There seemed to be only the one warrior, for when 
Cuthbert glanced to the right and left, he saw no trace of 
others. 

True, he was a strapping big fellow, and capable of 
doing herculean work if given the opportunity, but Cuth- 
bert knew that so long as he could cover him with a gun 
that never failed, and keep him at a little distance, he 
had the game in his hands. 

The painted warrior uttered growls of satisfaction as 
he began to overhaul the contents of the boat. 


How Cuthbert Did It. 


227 

Somehow this vandal act stirred up Cuthbert’s pug- 
nacious nature, and he could not longer keep the peace. 

“Here you, stop that !” he burst out. 

The Indian’s head came up like a flash, and he stared 
straight at Cuthbert. 

Doubtless what he saw rather took him by surprise, 
for the rifle of the sturdy youngster was covering him, 
and there was a convincing, determined air about the lad 
that declared he meant business. 

The red man looked at Cuthbert, and that individual 
looked at him, but on the face of it the boy had the best 
of the bargain. 

“Ugh!” grunted the trapped one, but whether that 
signified disgust at his plight or contempt for his young 
adversary it would have been hard to have told. 

The fellow seemed to understand what power there 
was back of the boy’s elbow, for thus far he had made 
not the first effort to escape, but stood, or rather 
crouched, in the boat, as though hewn out of bronze. 

“Caught like an old fox in the trap,” said Cuthbert, in 
the best Sioux he could command, for his captivity among 
the lodges of these valiant people and intercourse with 
that friendly old medicine man, had given him oppor- 
tunities to pick up even more than a simple smattering of 
their tongue. 

To say the warrior was surprised at being thus ad- 
dressed would hardly cover the case, yet such is the com- 
plete mastery over the emotions possessed by his kind that 
all he did was to grunt once more the expressive “Ugh !” 

It could be seen, however, that he was scrutinizing the 
young fur-taker with more care than before. 

The idea may have struck him that he had seen the 
lad ere now. There were many adventurous young bucks 
who had stolen away from their peaceful villages to 


228 


How Cuthbert Did It. 


throw in their fortunes with the warlike old chief, Sit- 
ting Bull, and this fellow might be one of them. 

Cuthbert was in something of a quandary. 

He felt like the man who, in the heat of an auction, 
had bid upon an elephant, and, to his dismay, found the 
animal knocked down to him. 

Now that he had the gentle brave, what was he to do 
with him ? 

The fellow was undoubtedly as full of tricks and turns 
as an egg is of meat. 

So long as he kept him covered all seemed lovely 
enough, but he could hardly expect this picturesque state 
of affairs to last the balance of the afternoon. 

Nor could he attempt to bind the fellow’s arms, for to 
accomplish this he must come into personal contact with 
him, and this was what he did not wish to do, for just as 
soon as he put down the rifle it gave the stalwart Indian 
the chance his crafty nature coveted, either to cut and 
run, or else to hurl himself upon the lad. 

Cuthbert felt he was in for it. 

If he had been anxious to see the sun decline in the 
west before, he was doubly so now, and with good rea- 
son. 

Karl and Old Sile might not come until dusk, and that 
was two hours off — an eternity, it seemed to him. 

Why, his arms would be numb before one-quarter of 
that time elapsed. 

Plainly, then, something must be done to bring mat- 
ters to a climax. 

Now, if there was only some way his ingenuity could 
devise whereby the prisoner could be made to tie himself 
up securely — but Cuthbert laid no claim to the art of 
necromancy, leaving all that black dealing to the witch 
doctors and medicine men. 

At the same time, his thinking of such a desired end 


How Cuthbert Did It. 229 

may have been the means of suggesting a bright little 
thought, that looked to him like an oasis in the great 
alkali desert. 

“Come ashore !” he ordered. 

It was spoken in the Sioux tongue, and the warrior 
could not help understanding, so he had no excuse for re- 
fusing. 

Still watching the boy covertly out of the corner of his 
eyes, he clambered over the stern of the boat and jumped 
ashore. 

When he stood up he seemed to Cuthbert to be a ver- 
itable giant in size, and, as he thus secured his first good 
look at the fellow, he recognized him as a young brave 
known in the tribe as the Otter, and who had been in 
more scrapes than any two of his companions. 

Cuthbert had always disliked and avoided the fellow 
during the entire length of his captivity. 

He saw how the other watched him while coming 
ashore, and knew this look boded him no good if once he 
yielded up the advantage held by reason of his gun. 

“You are the Otter — you remember the paleface boy 
adopted into your tribe ? I am Little Beaver.” 

Then the Indian smiled, as though the chance for which 
he was looking had suddenly cropped up. 

“Little Beaver — ugh, yes ; me Big Otter. You gone 
long time. How ?” 

He started to advance, with his hand extended and an 
eager look on his painted face. 

Cuthbert was not deceived. 

True, he was only a boy, but, knocking about the world 
as he had, rubbing elbows with all manner of men, had 
given him more than an ordinary insight into human 
nature. 

He knew this fellow as a treacherous, cruel character, 
and he had not the slightest intention of allowing him to 


How Cuthbert Did It. 


230 

come within arm’s length lest the other’s superior prow- 
ess deprive him of what advantage he now held. 

‘‘Stop!” 

The swinging up of the rifle, with a finger on the 
trigger, was a gentle persuader itself, and more signifi- 
cant in the mind of the warrior than a score of commands. 

He cut short his advance. 

The smile, that seemed to set so illy upon his hang-dog 
countenance, quickly faded away and gave place to his 
usual crafty expression. , 

“Little Beaver forget him friends,” he said, in fair 
English. 

“That isn’t true, but you were never one of my friends. 
You hated and annoyed me all you could. I believe you 
would have killed me if you dared. Now the shoe is on 
the other foot. I can drop you where you stand. You 
needn’t look around, for if you run I shoot, d’ye under- 
stand.” 

“Ugh I” 

That time the disgust was manifest all over his face as 
he grunted his answer. 

He seemed to measure the distance that now lay be- 
tween them. 

Perhaps they were separated by twelve feet. What of 
that? Was he not an athlete, the best runner and jumper 
in his tribe, and had he not covered a greater distance 
than this when competing in the lists? 

“Don’t you try it, that’s all. I’ve shot a wild cat on 
the jump, and I’m quite sure I can put daylight through 
such a big duffer as you. Otter.” 

The Indian concluded it would not pay to make-«the 
attempt. He liked to have at least a fair chance when he 
risked his life, and in this case everything was favorable 
to the young fur-gatherer with the gun. 


How Cuthbert Did It. 231 

Still his hand was not yet exhausted ; there were other 
tricks to be tried. 

‘‘Little Beaver think um bad Indian. Me no want 
trouble, not much.” 

This time he walked backward, waving his hand as 
though in dignified farewell. 

Cuthbert had no idea of letting him go — it would only 
serve to bring the rest down upon the spot in double-quick 
order. 

“You stand still there till I tell you what to do. You’re 
a prisoner. Otter, and you can’t go away. I’m going to 
tie you up just as soon as I can think of a way.” 

“Little Beaver first catch Otter.” 

Even as he spoke he was gone. 

Cuthbert was taken by surprise. He had prepared him- 
self to fire should the Indian start to running away, and 
there were so many obstacles in the way of rapid prog- 
ress that he believed he could take at least three snap 
shots at the fugitive ere he had a chance to get out of 
range, while one should be all that was necessary. 

Instead the warrior, true to his name, had taken to the 
water when in difficulty. 

He threw himself backward with a graceful movement, 
as of a curving trout leaping out of the water, and a 
splash announced his arrival in the drink. 

Cuthbert ran hastily forward. 

He knew what it probably meant for the fellow to give 
him the slip. 

A comparatively few jumps landed him on the very 
spot where the tall Indian stood when last seen. 

Surely not five seconds had elapsed since he struck 
the water. Indeed, the waves caused by the sudden im- 
mersion of such a large foreign body were still lapping 
the side of the nearest boat when Cuthbert reached the 


How Cuthbert Did It. 


2}2 

edge of the drink, but not the slightest trace of the 
Indian was to be seen. 

Well had he been named, for no one was ever more at 
home in the water than this human otter. 

Cuthbert had known him to do wonderful things in 
the days that were gone, and the memory of them flashed 
over him now. 

From where he stood, gun in hand, he could see 
further than a man could progress under water; the 
swimmer would have to rise to the surface for air, and 
then would come his chance to shoot. 

Somehow the situation reminded him forcibly of vari- 
ous duck hunts in the past, where he stood up in the 
boat looking for a cripple to come to the surface, when a 
quick eye was needed to locate him and fire before the 
crafty bird sank again. 

A minute crawled by — two of them. 

And Cuthbert, who had watched so keenly out upon 
the river, had discovered no sign of the escaping Indian 
brave. 

Well, that settled one thing. The fellow had not 
struck boldly out for the middle of the stream, but hugged 
the shore. Perhaps, taking a lesson from duck nature, 
he expected to follow a well-known trick of these cripples 
and hide his head in the tufts of dead grass alongside, 
while his body still remained under water. 

Cuthbert turned his attention to a point closer at home, 
and proceeded to examine every bunch of grass or clump 
of bushes that dipped into the water within a distance of 
ten yards in either direction. 

He was indeed staggered. 

The adroit Otter had vanished as completely as though 
the ground had opened and swallowed him, leaving not a 
trace behind by which he could be tracked. 

It was most mysterious. 


How Cuthbert Did It. 


233 

Perhaps Old Sile, drawing upon his ample experience, 
might have solved the puzzle in much less time than it 
took Cuthbert to see through the wily red man’s game. 

Never had the boy been more puzzled, more chagrined, 
in all his life than when it began to look as though his 
anticipated quarry had slipped through his fingers. 

The fellow must be somewhere, but had he not thor- 
oughly examined the ground and looked into every pos- 
sible hiding-place ? 

Ah ! the boats ! 

Perhaps behind them the cunning brave had come to 
the surface, changing his position when Cuthbert walked 
the shore by simply passing underneath and coming up 
on the opposite side. 

Cuthbert seized upon the idea as though it were in- 
spired. 

He again walked the shore. 

As he passed the boats he looked sharply, and fancied 
he saw something vanish below the surface. 

To make sure, he stepped back again to the lower side 
and covered the spot with his ready rifle. 

Then shortly there came into view the bedraggled long 
black hair, ado-rned with turkey feathers, and the paint- 
bedaubed phiz of the Otter. 

As soon as the Indian opened his eyes he discovered the 
rifle pointing at him, telling him the game was up. 

It had been a very clever little deal, and perhaps de- 
served a better fate, but Cuthbert had learned something 
of Indian character while sojourning among them, and 
just now he reaped the benefit of his knowledge. 

“You come out quick. Otter,” he said. 

The warrior would gladly have availed himself of a 
chance to do something more suited to his taste; but, 
then, he did not like the looks of that gun. He knew how 
much quicker a bullet can move through space than a 


How Cuthbert Did It. 


234 

human being, even though he be an athlete, and the boy 
on the bank looked as though he were now fully aroused, 
and would take no more nonsense. 

So Otter, making a virtue of necessity, came out of the 
flood. 

A sorry sight he presented, dripping wet, with patches 
of mud clinging fondly to him, and some floating dead 
weed in his stringy, coarse hair. 

He looked sheepish, too. 

All this trouble counted for nothing, and his captor 
was a boy he had affected to despise. 

It was sad. 

The air was still rather keen, and as soon as it struck 
the soaked warrior he began to wish he had thought twice 
before plunging sO' recklessly into the flood, for presently 
his strong, white teeth would be rattling together, in 
spite of his vaunted valor and phlegmatic nature. 

He stood before Cuthbert, who had backed away a 
dozen feet. 

^‘YouTe a nice otter — why don’t you swim when you’re 
in the water? You’ve got a good deal to learn yet,” said 
the boy, scornfully. 

^‘Ugh! Little Beaver heap talk. He learn be big 
Indian. What want do now ?” 

There is nothing like a little adversity to take the bun- 
combe out of a boastful man. 

“Lie down,” said Cuthbert. 

The fellow grunted his surprise, but at once threw 
himself upon the ground. 

“Roll over on your face — that’s the way. Now put 
your arms behind you. I’m going to tie your hands. One 
move. Otter, and you are a dead Indian.” 

“No -move, sure — be good — you see,” quickly muttered 
the brave, raising his nose from the ground in order to 
speak. 


How Cuthbert Did It. 235 

“Well, remember, and if I have to kill you itil be your 
own fault. 

Cautiously Cuthbert approached. 

He had stout cord in his pocket, having made it a point 
never to go without a supply, and, making a slipnoose, he 
set to work to catch the Indian’s hands in this. 

To a cowboy, accustomed to the lasso, this was not so 
very difficult a task. 

The Otter might have resisted only for the fear that 
possessed him lest he pay with his life for such rashness. 

Once those two bronzed, cruel hands were in the loop 
of the baby lariat Cuthbert knew he could throw more 
energy into the game, and with hot zeal he wound the 
whole balance of the cord around and around the wrists 
of his prisoner. 

All was well. 

He had won out and could look Old Sile squarely in 
the eye. 

An extra piece of twine served to fasten the Indian’s 
ankles together as he sat with his back to a tree. 

He was a sorrowful looking brave, and had not heart 
of grace to even say “ugh” when Cuthbert asked a ques- 
tion. 

So the lad went back to his log. 

From there he could watch his prisoner and at the 
same time feel fairly comfortable. 

The time drifted on. 

No more prowling red men came upon the scene, for 
which Cuthbert was glad, as he might not meet with 
such success in handling the second crop, or else would 
be forced to use his rifle, which would go against his 
grain. 

The day was wearing away, and surdly his comrades 
must show up ere long now. 


How Cuthbert Did It. 


2)6 

Perhaps they would be surprised to learn of his little 
adventure with the Otter. 

There, was that Old Silers signal ? 

H-e bent his ears to listen, and could see that the Indian 
had heard something too. 

“Keep still, you,” he admonished. 

When the sound came again it was close by, and Cuth- 
bert quickly answered it. 

Then Old Sile came into view, bearing a few things 
on his back, which proved that the little camp was to be 
permanently abandoned. Behind him Karl trudged along, 
likewise encumbered with blankets and other impedi- 
ments, but at sight of his chum he found an opportunity 
to wave his hand in greeting. 

Neither of them noticed the sitting brave, though they 
passed within a few yards of his position. Both were 
eagerly looking for the boats, glad to see that all appeared 
well. 

Cuthbert’s heart beat a lively tattoo. He felt the mo- 
ment of his triumph was at hand. 

“Everything lovely?” asked Old Sile, pausing beside 
the post of the vidette. 

“Couldn’t be finer,” replied the boy, in an assumed 
careless tone. 

“Seen anything o’ that boat an’ the three critters as 
was in it?” 

“No boat passed here,” came the truthful reply. 

Old Sile looked at him sharply, as though there was 
something very queer about the boy which he could not 
understand. 

“Well, that’s a lucky thing all around. We kin eat our 
bite right here by the boats, an’ git off as soon as dark 
settles, because the sooner Holy smoke !” 

Down went the blanket, coffee-pot and frying-pan, and 
up went the old ranger’s gun like a flash, until it covered 


How Cuthbert Did It. 


2)7 

the half-concealed form of the Sioux brave. Karl, believ- 
ing they were about to be attacked, and unable to drop 
his burden, managed to fall upon one knee and shove ,his 
rifle forward, ready to render an account of himself. 

Cuthbert could hardly keep from bursting into a loud 
laugh. 

He was really afraid lest the old warrior might let fly, 
and do some damage that he would later on deeply regret. 

“Hold on, Uncle Sile,” he cried, hastily, “don’t you 
fire — that’s my Indian!’’ 

The veteran, still holding the stock of his gun against 
his shoulder, slowly turned his head and looked at the 
boy. There was a quizzical gleam in his eyes that be- 
trayed how keenly he enjoyed the novel situation. 

“Your Injun — whar under the sun did you git him. I’d 
like to know?” 

“Well, you see, he was in the water, and I was afraid 
the poor wretch might freeze, so I had him- come ashore 
and be looked after.” 

Old Sile bent over the chapfallen brave. 

“I reckon as how you made it warm enough for the 
critter. He don’t ’pear to be thankful, so far’s I kin see. 
But these onery thieves aint got much sense o’ gratitude 
about ’em at the best. Now tell us the hull business.” 

So Cuthbert waded in. 

Karl grinned sympathetically as the yarn was gradu- 
ally unfolded, and nodded' his head in appreciation of his 
comrade’s valor, while even the ancient ranger allowed 
something akin to a smile to flit athwart his rugged and 
seamed countenance when he heard how neatly the Vir- 
ginia lad had caught the cunning warrior at his ducking 
dodge. 

“Ye deserve credit for the job, younker ; an’ Pm a-goin’ 
ter tell that story more’n a few times around the camp 
fire in nights to come on the range or in the wilderness. 


How Cuthbert Did It. 


238 

So ye know this forlorn-lookin' chap, an' he goes by the 
name o’ Otter. Let me git a few words with him, an' see 
if I kin find out what the plans of his fellers are.” 

It was useless, jus-t as he might have expected, know- 
ing Indian character so well. The Otter pretended at 
first not to understand the nature of the proposition ad- 
vanced, and then when Old Sile spoke it clearly in the 
Sioux tongue he drew himself up as well as his bonds 
would permit, gave one gutteral “ug'h” and looked defi- 
antly into the face of lids questioner. 

Death itself had no terror for this untutored child of the 
forest and the prairie when his honor was at stake. He 
utterly refused to betray his friends, even though by so 
doing he sealed his own fate; and Cuthbert, who could 
appreciate such heroism, was determined he should not 
suffer through his defiance, if it could be managed in a 
manner compatable with their safety. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


THE FIRE GANTLET. 

At any rate their time must be short, since the gloami- 
ing was now at hand. 

Cuthbert rejoiced to think their delay would soon be 
a thing of the past. Upon the broad and friendly bosom 
of the Big Horn they might continue their voyage, and, 
if all went well. Old Sile promised that they would be at 
the frontier fort within six days. 

He wondered what was to become of the captive Sioux 
brave. 

Old Sile would not take his life, that was sure, and 
the only alternative seemed to be that he should be left 
as they had the valiant chimney sweep. Bounding Horse, 
in bonds. 

Even here Cuthbert found doubts to give him worry. 
There was a chance that the wretched brave might never 
be found if they left him tied to a tree and so deprived 
of the power of speech that he could not attract his com- 
panions to the spot. 

Hence, he was curious to know just v^hat measures 
the old pilot would take to assure their safety, and at the 
same time allow the buck to live. 

He was not long left in doubt. 

The veteran drew 'hiis canoe alongside the little bank, 
and stepping in proceeded to rearrange the bundles. 

Then it became manifest that he meant to carry the 
Indian along, at least during a portion of their voyage. 

In one way the big fellow might prove somewhat of an 
incumbrance, but they had no current to contend against, 
and should the situation become desperate at any time 


The Fire Gantlet 


240 

perhaps it might be to their advantage to have a hostage 
in camp. 

Old Sile nodded to Karl as he stepped toward the tree 
where the prisoner sat. 

The fellow had managed to free his ankles of the 
bonds which Cuthbert had placed there. Lack of experi- 
ence in this sort of thing had prevented the lad from 
making a fast job of it; and as the two started in his 
direction he struggled to his feet and made a bolt of it. 

The ranger was after him hot enough, and overtook 
him ere he had hardly time to gain headway and make 
more than a dozen yards. 

When the two of them picked him up head and heels, 
and began carrying him in the direction of the water, he 
never uttered one word of protest or entreaty, though he 
did not know but what it was their intention to drop him 
overboard so as to get rid of an incumbrance. Only 
his black eyes glowed with defiance and hatred. 

This time Old Sile personally saw to his bonds, so 
there would be no more mistakes. If this thing had hap- 
pened under other conditions it might have been most 
serious. 

While arranging these matters the veteran took occa- 
sion to tell the Otter just what they meant to do with 
him, and that if all went well he mig'ht expect to be a 
free man inside of forty-eight hours at the most. 

Still not a gleam of satisfaction flitted athwart that 
painted phiz, not a smile or a word to indicate that he 
rejoiced over the fact of having his days lengthened, only 
that same old grunt, which might signify anything and 
everything on occasion : 

“Ughr 

At least he understood that Old Sile was not a man to 
be defied with impunity, and should he attempt to betray 


The Fire Gantlet. 


241 

the little party to his allies, it would be at the risk of his 
life. 

All of which, and more. Old Sile gave him in the Sioux 
tongue, which he spoke as one to the manner born. 

It was now growing dark. 

Cutbbert had been engaged in munching upon a por- 
tion of food which Karl, with considerate forethought, 
had brought with him from the snug little camp among 
the rocks. 

This would tide over an emergency, and they could 
buoy up their spirits in glowing anticipations of the good 
things to come when once more under the hospitable 
roof of Sunset Ranch, guests of the big-hearted Kellys. 

“Time!” announced the pilot. 

Cuthbert likened him to the conductor of an express, 
standing with watch in hand, and swinging his lantern 
to the engineer while shouting : 

“All aboard!” 

They took their places in the boats, Karl, as before, in 
the stern of the second canoe, with his comrade forward. 

Not knowing what trap might have been set for them 
below, they kept their guns close beside them, ready for 
action. 

A few stars had appeared overhead, but the darkness 
was rapidly growing intense, which just suited their 
purpose. 

All that was necessary was to steer a course as near the 
center of the river as possible, and keep a sharp lookout 
for floating logs, that might endeavor to hobnob in a 
friendly way with their craft, and create trouble. 

Cuthbert was fully alive to the responsibilities of the 
situation. 

All that he had ever heard or read about similar condi- 
tions seemed to come sweeping into his brain. 

he remembered that in pioneer days on the Ohio, when 


The Fire Gantlet. 


242 

settlers traveled on flatboats, the Indians sometimes used 
to stretch a rope across the river when it was low, in 
order to bring the floating fort to a stop. 

Would these fellows conceive such a scheme as this ? 

Other possibilities, just as brilliant, floated through his 
mind. 

Thus he was in an excited state that would magnify 
every minor thing, and they did not pass a floating log 
or bunch of brush but that Cuthbert eyed it suspiciously, 
under the belief that it might in some way be connected 
with a cunning Indian trick. 

All seemed to go well. 

They were putting miles behind them. 

The spring freshet being on, early though it was, the 
river had swollen greatly. They could even notice a dif- 
ference since the time they started their boats and went 
into camp. 

Once at least Cuthbert had the satisfaction of making 
a discovery. 

A floating tree was on their right, and as the progress 
of the unimpeded canoe was much faster than this bulky 
object, they glided by, Karl with a twist of the paddle 
keeping well clear of the branches. 

It was at this moment Cuthbert uttered a low, startled 
exclamation. 

“I see him!” he said, between his teeth, as he quickly 
swung his rifle around, and faced the mass of gnarled 
branches which they were already beginning to leave 
behind. 

“What — who — where?” demanded Karl, one hand 
groping for his gun. 

“In that fork of the tree — he wants to drop over- 
board — keep away, Karl — it’s one of the miserable In- 
dians — a trap, I tell you.” 

Fortunately Karl had his wits about him. 


The Fire Gantlet. 


243 

He, too, saw the dark, crouching object, but was bet- 
ter able to determine its character than the Virginia lad. 

With both hands he plied the paddle, and such was 
his vim that the boat instantly shot away from* the vicin- 
ity of the floating tree. 

At that moment the dark object made a spring through 
the air. 

“Here he comes — holy smoke! it’s a panther!*' ejacu- 
lated the astonished Cuthbert. 

The sudden change in the course of the dugout had 
evidently quite upset the animal’s calculations, for though 
it made the leap, it failed to reach the canoe by several 
feet. 

Even while Cuthbert was airing his suddenly acquired 
knowledge the baffled beast splashed into the drink. 

Karl paddled with all his might. 

“Keep on the lookout for him. If he tries to board us, 
shoot,” he said, at the same time using his own eyes to 
advantage. 

Neither of them saw any signs of the ferocious beast, 
and concluded that he had either gone back to his perch 
on the floating tree or else struck out boldly for the 
shore. 

How the animal came in such a position they could not 
understand and would never know, but as the cat tribe 
hate to wet their feet, it was very plain why he had re- 
mained on his perch so long. 

“What’s the row, younkers?” asked Old Sile, who had 
held back his boat so that they might draw alongside. 

“Only a panther on the tree — ihe tried to board us, but 
fell short,” remarked Karl, as nonchalantly as though this 
sort of thing were an everyday occurrence even with him. 

The veteran only chuckled in his peculiar way, and 
after exchanging a few more words with the boys he 
again drew ahead. 


The Fire Gantlet. 


244 

Cuthbert felt a little chagrined to think his fears had 
magnified the crouching panther into a hostile Indian. 

He resolved to make more positive the next time ere 
committing himself. 

After this little excitement they made some progress 
without a disturbance. 

Cuthbert's fears of traps began to fade away. 

The fact that thus far they had seen absolutely nothing 
of the enemy gave him hope that the allies had quit in 
disgust. 

He even hummed a fragment of a jolly cowboy song 
of the cattle trail, and Karl smiled as he heard it, glad to 
know his comrade possessed so light a heart. 

The sky had clouded over. 

A wind had also sprung up, and it began to look as 
though they might be in for a storm, such as comes with 
the spring. 

The boys did not much enjoy the prospect of getting 
their jackets wet, especially as there was a chill in the 
air; but experience on the cattle range had made them 
something of philosophers with regard to these things. 

So they simply dragged out their blankets and bundled 
up in them like Esquimaux. 

Perhaps Old Sile might take mercy and consent to run 
ashore ere the storm caught them. 

They had made good progress and must be many miles 
on their journey, so that the night would not be wholly 
wasted. 

A fire with its comforts seems doubly precious when 
circumstances debar one from enjoying its cheer; so 
Cuthbert found himself yearning for a camp. 

This desire grew more positive when the wind be^an 
to slap the waves up against the side of the dugout, and 
splash cold spray over the lad crouching in the bow. 

Having scant freeboard the dugouts caught each wave, 


The Fire Gantlet. 


245 

and being heavily laden, there seemed at least a chance 
that ere the boat could rise the water might pour over 
the bow. 

Still, not a word from^ Cuthbert. He was not much 
given to complaints, and could take his medicine with the 
rest. 

It lay with Old Sile to determine when they had had 
enough. He was the pilot, the doctor and the captain of 
the expedition. 

Stronger still the wind. 

There would be an accident soon, Cuthbert thought, 
unless they landed. At any moment a wave, more vigor- 
ous than its predecessors, might sweep clean over the 
bow and swamp them. 

Ah ! Old Sile must have awakened to a knowledge of 
the fact — perhaps a comber had doused the Indian lying 
in the bottom of his boat; at any rate, he changed his 
course and was now headed diagonally for the shore. 

Cuthbert felt like giving a cowboy yell, but had to take 
it out in a grunt, as the other would have surely brought 
down condemnation upon his head from the pilot. 

The wind could riot as it pleased, since they need no 
longer fear its violence. 

But Old Sile had no intention of landing as yet. 

He only meant to gain the smoother water near the 
shore, where the gale would not add to the danger of 
their progress. 

Here they glided along. 

The trees close by bent and moaned under the fury of 
the wind, but shielded those in the boats. 

There was no opportunity to relax their vigilance. 
Cuthbert kept a keen lookout for jutting points, while 
Karl used the paddle to sound for bottom as they passed 
along, though Old Sile, ahead, was doing his duty, and 
they might trust themselves to follow where he led. 


The Fire Gantlet. 


246 

It was while thus moving' on that they heard the plain 
report of a gun from up the river. 

Three times it came to their ears. 

Even Cuthbert jumped to the conclusion that it meant 
something, and was in the nature of a signal. 

He aroused himself, as though under the belief that 
the crisis was not far off. Plainly, Caleb Cross was a 
very stubborn sort of a chap, and, with his red allies, did 
not mean to give up the game so long as a single hope re- 
mained. 

“What’s that light ahead?” asked Cuthbert a minute 
or so later. 

Karl and Old Sile had also noticed it. 

Even as they looked it grew brighter. 

Surely the moon could not be rising, and that was not 
the right quarter at all — at least, so far as Cuthbert could 
remember, he had never yet seen the mistress of the night 
wheel into view above the westrn horizon. 

A fire then ! 

Had the woods been set ablaze ? He could never for- 
get the experience which befell Karl and himself on the 
night of their first meeting, and how they raced with a 
prairie fire. 

Perhaps a new adventure, that was. to even exc^l that 
perilous chase, awaited them now, and they would pos- 
sibly have to run a gantlet of flames in their canoes. 

Old Sile put inshore. 

This was a move that pleased Cuthbert exceedingly, 
though, for the life of him, he was quite unable to see 
how their condition would be rendered any safer. 

He eagerly awaited the pilot’s explanation. 

Old Sile was plainly wroth. 

“A measly ole trick, an’ to think we’re to be held back 
by sich a low-down game,” he said. 


The Fire Gantlet. 247 

Karl may have understood, but to the other it was all 
Greek. 

“Ain’t the woods on fire. Uncle Sile ?” he demanded, in 
a tone that made the other chuckle. 

“Wail, no, I reckon as how they ain’t jest yet, sonny; 
but them pesky critters hev gone an’ made a blaze on the 
shore, an’ we can’t go by without bein’ diskivered.” 

Cuthbert sighed in relief. 

If that were the worst, they could perhaps hide their 
boats and go inland to seek some shelter from the ap- 
proaching storm. 

He advanced as much to the guide. 

“It’s well put, younker, but several things kinder head 
us off. Fust place, ye see, thar’s mighty poor kiver 
around here for the boats. Then, agin, the shore ain’t 
sich as I fancy — looks low and swampy, as though the 
rise in the river had begun to flood back among the tim- 
ber.” 

“Perhaps we might find a chance to paddle our canoes 
through the woods, and in that way get past the fire,” 
suggested Cuthbert. 

“Another bright ijee, but I’m afraid the water ain’t 
deep enough yet, an’, gee whiz, it’d be an orful under- 
takin’ in the dark and storm.” 

“Well?” 

“My opinion, clean an’ unprejudiced, are this: We’ll 
move down to the p’int yonder, takin’ great care to not 
expose ourselves. I reckons on bein’ able to take a squar 
squint at the situation while we hang out thar, an’ I de- 
clar to Moses, ef thar’s half a chance I’m willin’ to try 
the riffle and float past, keepin’ as nigh this shore as we 
kin.” 

Somehow his boldness electrified the boys. 

Cuthbert felt like shouting again, while Karl simply 
uttered the one word : 


The Fire Gantlet 


248 

“Good !” 

Immediately they began to once more let the boats move 
down with the current. 

At the point a hold-up occurred. 

The fire was in plain view ; as Old Sile had believed it 
was on the other shore ; but, with the flames dancing high 
in the stormy wind, the whole surface of the river was 
lighted up. 

Still, there were times when a streak of shadow lay 
along their shore, and this tempted the old ranger amaz- 
ingly. 

He knew in his soul it would be the part of wisdom for 
them to land above and await a change in the existing 
conditions. It was out of all reason to believe that those 
who seemed bent upon throwing so much light upon the 
subject could keep the fire going indefinitely, with a storm 
brewing that might descend at any moment with a grand 
hurrah to wet their wood, kill the blaze and drive them to 
shelter. 

And yet there seemed to be some peculiar fascination 
about this running the river gantlet. 

It was hard for the veteran to refuse a dare. 

Like many another man, he took the burden off his 
own shoulders and placed it upon those of his comrades. 

“What shall we do, younkers; hold back an’ wait to 
see if the rain washes ’em out, or take the bit in our teeth 
an’ run by ?” 

“I say go,” came immediately from the impulsive Vir- 
ginian. Whoever knew one of his race to hesitate be- 
cause danger beset the way ? 

Karl took a few seconds to think. 

Doubtless he considered what their chances of dis- 
covery would be in case the party above searched the 
shores as they came down stream. 

“Perhaps we might do worse,” he said, at length. 


The Fire Gantlet. 


249 


Karl placed considerable dependence upon the sagacity 
of the old pilot. If anybody could carry them through 
this scrape without disaster surely Sile might. 

“Now listen/’ said that worthy, impressively. 

In the plainest of language he told them just what 
each was to do, and how they would act in an emergency 
should the worst come in the shape of discovery. 

“Understand?” he questioned, in conclusion, and both 
of them answered yes. 

More shots came from up river. 

“Them critters air gittin’ hot arter us. But the time 
has kim — let her go, Karl.” 

Both dugouts floated around the point and down the 
stream. 

The boys had settled down flat in the bottom^ of their 
boat, where they sprawled amid the various packages that 
went to make up their outfit, hardly daring to raise a 
head, and almost holding their very breath in suspense. 

Of course, given a very brief time and the steady 
current would sweep them down stream beyond range of 
the illumination, even when the fire was at its best. 

The question at issue was whether they were to be al- 
lowed that time, or would some wandering pair of eager 
eyes discover them. 

In the uncertain light the dugouts looked not unlike 
drifting logs, and might be mistaken for such. 

To Cuthbert this was an experience such as he was 
never likely to forget. 

His very heart seemed to stand still, and he held his 
breath as the boat swept around the bend until it floated 
upon the broader water, and was really within the arc of 
the illumination. 

Karl kept one arm over the gunwale, and, by means 
of the paddle, managed to steer to some extent, so that 
the canoe kept her head pointed down stream. This 


The Fire Gantlet. 


250 

might seem like a small thing, but should there be sudden 
need of haste, on account of discovery, it would count 
for a good deal to be in complete readiness for a supreme 
effort. 

Such little things show the prairie training, and Cuth- 
bert, as he lay there, saw with admiration how easily his 
comrade accomplished the object he had in view. 

They were making good progress. 

Of course, Cuthbert need not bob up his head in order 
to know this. He was acquainted with the current on 
which they floated, and the speed with which, in its 
swollen state, the river rushed along. 

There was also another method of learning just how 
rapidly their craft was being swept down stream. In 
many places the pines growing along the shore bent over 
the water, and, as he lay there, Cuthbert could watch these 
tops outlined against the clouds, passing, seemingly, in an 
endless procession. 

They were more or less touched by the firelight from 
the other shore, and Cuthbert, noting how bright every- 
thing was around, could not imagine their luck would be 
so great as to swing them past without discovery. 

Yet it began to look that way, sure enough. 

How much time had elapsed since they rounded the 
point he never could have told. If measured by his 
strained feelings, it must have been hours, when his com- 
mon sense told him seconds would be nearer the mark. 

He did know, however, that they had actually passed 
the fire, and with every second were drawing further 
away from the danger point. 

Still no shout of wild alarm betokened discovery. 

Cuthbert could have hugged himself with gratification 
at the prospect of success. This sort of an adventure 
aroused all his love for daring, and would be a feat worth 
telling around a cowboy round-up camp fire. 


The Fire Gantlet. 251 

His congratulations, however, turned out to be a trifle 
premature, since they were not yet out of the woods. 

What he had dreaded to hear suddenly came to pass — a 
fierce whoop rang over the river, sounding with startling 
distinctness. 

To the boy’s utter amazement, it came from just in 
front, and his first alarming thought was that a trap had 
been laid, into which they were unwittingly drifting. 

Of course, further concealment was now utterly out of 
the question, and Karl was already on his knees, ready to 
bend to his paddle with a desperation that promised big 
results. 

As Cuthbert struggled to his knees, he had a glimpse 
of the boat ahead. Old Sile was on deck, and just in the 
act of bringing his uplifted paddle down upon some dark 
object further forward in the boat. There was a crash, 
and the Otter fell back limp and lifeless. Then it was no 
trap at all, but treachery on the part of the prisoner, 
who, piqued at the success of the daring trick that was 
being played upon his confederates, had risked his life to 
give the alarm. 


CHAPTER XX. 


BACK TO DEAR ODD SUNSET RANCH. 

The alarm cry of the desperate prisoner was echoed 
almost immediately from the shore. 

Of course, there was no longer any reason why the 
fugitives should allow caution to interfere with their 
progress, and it was Old Sile, who, having reduced the 
refractory prisoner to a state of submission with his spruce 
blade, now dipped the latter in the water, and shouted : 

“Paddle, younkers ; paddle for all that’s out !” 

And they did most lustily. Karl was at work just as 
soon as the pilot, and Cuthbert came in a good third ; for, 
realizing that if the “pen was mightier than the sword” 
in some instances, a fellow of his size might do more 
good with the paddle than with the gun. 

Thus they rushed down stream with an impetus that 
immediately carried them beyond the furtherest glow of 
the fire, and into that darkness covering the river below. 

Somhow Cuthbert found the stirring lines of that dash- 
ing old-time story ringing through his head, where young 
Lochinvar carries ofif his sweetheart just as she is about 
to be married to a rival, and, mounting his siplendid steed, 
dashes through the night. 

“ ‘They’ll have swift steeds who follow,' 

Quoth young Lochinvar.” 

So thought Cuthbert, thrilled with the exhilaration 
caused by their rapid passage down the mystic river 
flood — they must have been speedy boats, propelled by 
muscular arms and urged on by bold hearts, if they dared 
follow the lead of the fugitives. 

For many risks were taken in thus rushing headlong 


Back to Dear Old Sunset Ranch. 253 

down the stream, where drifting logs and other snags 
threatened disaster. 

Cuthbert, as he paddled, keeping time with the lad in 
the stern, watched for the white spot that marked the 
tail end of Old Sile’s boat. That was his guiding star, 
and so long as he managed to keep it within a reasonable 
distance he knew all was going well. 

It was a wild, thrilling race. 

They knew full well their enemies must have jumped 
into their boats and started in hot pursuit. 

How many they numbered no one knew, but the odds 
were probably trebly against them, and Old Sile, for the 
sake of his proteges, more than anything else, desired to 
avoid a conflict if it could by any reasonable means be 
accomplished. 

In olden days he w^ould undoubtedly have been other- 
wise disposed, and liked nothing better than to lay an 
ambush for the rascals, in which destruction would await 
them; but the old, fierce fever did not run so hotly in 
Sile’s veins now, and the Indians were not just the same 
as he had fought three decades or more gone by. 

The leading boat did not do what it should, and Cuth- 
bert knew it was overloaded. 

He was, therefore, not much surprised, when they had 
gone some miles in this reckless way, to hear the pilot 
call out that he intended to slow up for a brief time in 
order to get rid of his unwelcome passenger. 

He cut the Otter’s bonds, and then came a splash as he 
tumbled the struggling brave over into the drink. 

For the second time the Otter took to the river with- 
out any choice on his part. 

The shore was close at hand, so that he could readily 
reach it. 

Our friends concerned themselves no further about his 
fortunes or mishaps. The fellow had fared much better 


254 Back to Dear Old Sunset Ranch. 

than he deserved after the excessive trouble he caused 
them, and might in time to come thank his stars he had 
fallen into the hands of such merciful enemies. 

Once more Old Siie plied the paddle, and now his dug- 
out showed a wonderful increase in speed, since it was 
properly balanced. 

All this had occurred in a very short space of time, but 
the storm was gathering very fast. 

To avoid the fiercest of the foam-capvped waves, they 
were compelled to hug the sheltered shore. 

The pursuers had made no sign, but Cuthbert felt 
sure they still followed, and he cast frequent glances over 
his shoulder into the black waste through which they had 
just rushed with such headlong speed. 

Old Sile was not in love with this sort of thing, and 
had about determined that he was quite satisfied. 

Cuthbert heard him call again with sudden vehemence : 

“Hold hard, younkers, hold hard !” 

Perhaps there was some threatening danger ahead, 
some obstruction against which if the boats were hurled 
at the speed they were going, destruction must follow. 

It is not the easiest thing in the world to stop a run- 
away canoe favored by a roaring current; but there are 
tricks of the paddle, known to all who have learned its 
secrets, whereby even this is possible. 

To Cuthbert’s surprise and intense satisfaction he saw 
Old Sile paddling shoreward. 

Then the end of the night's run was at hand, and the 
veteran absolutely refused to be chased another rod. 

Cuthbert, cold and stiff, felt like shouting “hallelujah,” 
as once more visions of a warm camp fire flitted across his 
mental vision. 

Then he began to comprehend what was in the wind, 
for as they approached the shore line he saw the open 
mouth of a creek. 


Back to Dear Old Sunset Ranch. 255 

No doubt Old Sile had been keenly looking for just 
this place to turn in. 

At least he led them past the point and up its dark 
waters with the positive manner of one who knew where 
he was going. 

In a short time they landed, secreted the boats, so ar- 
ranged that a deluge of rain would not cause any injury 
to their cargoes, and taking a blanket apiece, together 
with suppplies, marched over some exceedingly rough 
ground. 

“Another bear’s den,” said Cuthbert, in some awe, as 
they halted beside an opening in the rocks. 

Old Sile made sure the place had no ferocious occupant 
ere he led his boys within ; nor had either of them the 
slightest desire for an encounter with one of those wicked 
old “mountain Charlies.” 

Here they found comfort. 

Great haste was made to secure some wood ere the 
deluge descended, and in this they were peculiarly fortu- 
nate, since a tumlble-down tree lay shattered almost at the 
mouth of the den, and so industriously did the three 
voyagers work, that pretty much the entire mass of fuel 
had been transferred to the cave by the time the rain 
l>egan to pour down. 

It was la wild storm indeed, and woe to the wretch 
without shelter while its fury lasted. The wind howled 
and the rain beat down in torrents, while the first crashes 
of thunder of the season made the earth tremble. 

What cared our three adventurous spirits? 

A cheery fire burned inside the old den, the smoke 
sifting through crevices above. 

They had blocked the entrance pretty well, so there 
was not a chance in a miillion that their hiding-place could 
be discovered, even if their enemies were searching, 


256 Back to Dear Old Sunset Ranch. 

which, considering the state of the weather, it was pretty 
positive they were not. 

Ciithbert was a happy chap. 

At last he could feast his eyes upon the ruddy glowing 
embers, and toast his chilled hands and feet in their 
genial warmth. 

How he did love a fire! To him it represented much 
of the weird fascination that the wilderness has for the 
hunter-naturalist’s soul. 

Little they cared how the storm tore over the hills and 
through the valleys, wrecking many a fine tree in its 
wild rush. 

Snugly ensconced in this secure den they could defy 
the elements. 

They slept w^ell, too, though the stone bed was rather 
hard, despite the blankets. 

Iin the morning, during a lull in the downpour. Old 
Sile made a trip to the boats to see that all was well, and 
brought back with him the balance of their small stock 
of provisions. 

Another night passed. 

The storm petered out, but Old Sile was in no great 
hurry to go on, so they lingered in their snug retreat until 
the third day. 

Then, their supply of fuel having given out, and their 
food reaching a very low ebb, he gave the order to em- 
bark. 

The country was pretty well inundated, and it would 
be impossible to voyage during the hours of darkness, 
since the risk of mishaps was too great. 

Old Sile gave the boys to understand that his patience 
had been tried to the limit, and that if, from this time on, 
Caleb Cross and his red allies made their appearance and 
attempted any more of their tricks, he meant to mete out 


Back to Dear Old Sunset Ranch. 257 

the sternest border punishment, and use his deadly rifle 
on the miscreants. 

Fortunately for all parties concerned, this meeting did 
not take place. 

The storm had driven the allies to cover, and when it 
was over they were ready to give up the chase in disgust. 

On the third day Cuthbert made a grand discovery. 

They had landed to cook a frugal lunch, and Cuthbert, 
rifle in hand, had wandered off, in the hope of discover- 
ing a deer, since fresh venison would have been a bonanza 
after the long period of living upon the jerked stuff. 

He came hurrying into camp later, brimming over with 
excitement, but Karl was not alarmed, since he quickly 
saw it was pleasure that caused his beaming face. 

“There's a whole camp of bluecoats just a mile from 
here. If the wind came from that quarter you’d hear 
’em,” he shouted. 

Karl threw the frying-pan into the air. 

“Hurrah !” he cried. “We’ll get something now be- 
sides this dry, old elk strip. What d’ye say. Uncle Sile ; 
shall we head for the camp?” 

The veteran was only too eager. He had for two days 
been out of tobacco, and any old smoker may realize the 
agonies he suffered. 

So they tumbled their traps into the twin boats pell- 
mell, and went rioting down stream. 

Turning a bend, there was the camp, sure enough, with 
a flag floating over it, and men in blue moving hither and 
thither. 

A sentry challenged, for times were perilous, and the 
Indians exceeding bold. 

They were taken before the officer commanding the 
detachment, and in Major Burt the veteran found an old 
and much-ad'mired friend, with whom he had many times 
hunted antelope in the neighborhood of the army post. 


2^8 Back to Dear Old Sunset Ranch. 

Their reception was a most hearty one, and their wants 
soon supplied, as well as the larder of the camp would 
permit. 

In the genial major the boys found a friend who 
envinced the keenest interest in their adventurous career. 

Himself more or less of a literary turn, the major could 
appreciate what a halo of romance there was over Cuth- 
bert’s search for his girl relative, and the remarkable 
manner of her discovery after he had long known her at 
Sunset Ranch. 

A strict disciplinarian, he was also tbe idol of his men, 
who were ready to go through blood to serve the major. 

He would have detained the little party longer, but they 
wxre anxious to reach civilization, while he had work of 
a serious nature cut out for him in this hostile region ; so 
with a hearty handshake and a mutual godspeed, they 
finally separated, our little band proceeding down stream. 

Their adventures were at an end so far as the winter 
in the wilderness was concerned ; and presently they could 
be looking complacently back over the strange events that 
had marked their season with that subtle pleasure known 
only to -those who have “been there” and had the ex- 
perience, when troubles fade away and only joys loom up. 

At the fort they left Old Sile, who desired to meet a 
fur trader, expected any day, and dispose of his valuable 
pelts. 

They parted from the veteran with genuine regret, and 
there was a suspicious moisture in Old Sile’s eyes, that 
could not be wholly laid at the door of the wood smoke 
blowing across the parade ground, as he stood beside the 
army wagon that was to convey the boys and their lug- 
gage to a point where they could get transportation to 
dear old Sunset Ranch. 

Long w^iild they remember him and his sterling char- 
acter, and many times would Cuthbert fancy he heard 


Back to Dear Old Sunset Ranch. 259 

that odd little chuckle in which Old Sile indulged when- 
ever either of the lads had done something that appealed 
to his dry sense of humor. 

And now they were on the last stage of their journey. 

Cuthbert frankly admitted that, keen though his desire 
had been to embark on the winter’s campaign, it could 
not compare with the exhilaration that possessed him 
now at the prospect of again feasting his eyes on the 
familiar scenes toward which his heart had been drawn so 
strongly from time to time. 

It was a happy day when Karl and himself, having se- 
cured a brace of bronchos, galloped out upon the prairie 
ahead of the vehicle that conveyed their luggage, with 
presents for all at the ranch. 

Spring had set in. 

The soft, green verdure, a few early wild flowers, the 
joyous notes of birds in the air, a blue sky overhead, 
and the soft, genial atmosphere around — who would not 
be overjoyed at feeling a bounding steed beneath him, and 
a sense of freedom expanding his soul ? 

They gazed around like hungry men who had suddenly 
been placed at a feast. 

This was what was life to them, what their hearts had 
long yearned to possess, and now they were in a position 
to grasp it. 

Even staid Karl, who seldom gave vent to cowboy en- 
thusiasm, chased the first rabbit he saw, shouting at the 
top of his voice and waving his hat wildly in the air. 

And Cuthbert was himself almost like one intoxicated 
with joy. He sang and whooped, he chased skulking 
coyotes and wolves, and seemed never to weary of the 
work. 

Why not? 

They were on the way to Sunset Ranch. 

Ere nightfall their eyes would be gladdened by a sight 


26 o Back to Dear Old Sunset Ranch. 


of the familiar buildings, and then would come the meet- 
ing with those friends never to be forgotten. 

It was the happiest day of Cuthbert’s life. 

Anticipation is often as pleasurable as the actual expe- 
rience itself, and boys usually get their share of delight 
in both. 

The ponies were about used up. 

Hardy little beasts as they were, it was extremely 
doubtful whether they ever passed such a day as this, 
with the many mad races to one side and the various 
twistings caused by getting off the main trail. 

Then familiar objects began to loom up. 

Never had they appeared half so dear as now, after a 
six months’ absence. 

Why, Cuthbert even found himself surveying with 
some show of affection a miserable little prairie-dog vil- 
lage that had once been the scene of a bad tumble for 
him. 

This was a joyous day, when he felt as though it must 
be easy to obey the Scriptural injunction and love even 
his enemies. 

Then, in the distance, they discovered the strip of tim- 
ber so well known, the big stock corral, and the white- 
washed buildings of the ranch itself. 

How it thrilled their hearts ! 

Later on, when other months had flown, and they were 
far away in the land of the Montezumas, seeing life on 
a wonderful Mexican cattle ranch, their thoughts would 
often turn backward, and tlirough their mind would run 
visions of this lovely view. 

Closer still. 

Now they saw herds of cattle moving toward the cor- 
ral, and even caught the shouts of the leather-chapped 
cowboys who circled each knot, urging them in the right 
direction. 


Back to Dear Old Sunset Ranch. 261 


How picturesque! 

Could anything on earth equal it? 

Cuthbert thought not, and yet Karl, who had been 
brought up to this wild life, had heart yearnings in re- 
gard to the wonders of the world to the far east, and 
even beyond the great salt sea, upon which his eager eyes 
had never as yet rested. 

The homestretch lay before them, and the weary 
broncho found the spurs urging him to a last glorious lap. 

With voices husky from long-continued shouting, and 
hats waving wildly in the air, the two returned wanderers 
dashed along. 

They had now been recognized, and answering whoops 
came from their old pards of the range, who in this noisy 
way bade them welcome home. The cattle bellowed and 
clashed their long horns, dogs barked, chickens cackled, 
and the whole ranch seemed to unite in one grand and 
glorious vociferous reception. 

And there, upon the long porch, were Mr. Kelly and his 
warm-hearted wife, together with a dancing little sprite, 
who waved her kerchief and joined her shrill, sweet voice 
in cowboy shouts such as she had learned in her mad 
gallops with our boys. 

Yes, it was Little Sunshine, eager to welcome them, 
and here was home indeed, at dear old Sunset Ranch. 


THE END. 


4 


A GOOD BOOK FOR BOYS. 

The Young Bridge 
Tender. 

Being Volume One of “The; S11.VER I^ake SERIES.” 

By Arthur M. Winfield. 


A story that will interest any boy. Mr. 
Winfield was the author chosen to complete 
the stories left unfinished by the late Horatio 
Alger, Jr., and did this work so well that he 
stands to-day as Mr. Alger’s natural successor 
when it comes to writing for real, live 
American boys. 

Bound in Cloth, 12 mo, well illustrated. 
Price, $1.25. 

STREET AND SMITH, New York and London 



A TALE OF TRUE PATRIOTISM. 

OUT WITH 

COMMODORE DECATUR. 

Being volume one of “The; Boys of Ttbkrty Skrifs.” 

By Lieut. Lionel Lounsberry. 


Tells of the stirring adventures of a youth 
who serves as a middy under Commodore 
Stephen Decatur during the War of 1812. 

The historical setting is correct, and the 
volume will prove inspiring to any bo5\ 

Handsomely bound in cloth, fully illustrated. 

Price, ^i.oo. 

street and smith, New York ajid London 



A STRONG ADVENTURE SERIES. 


Under the general title of “Camp and 
Canob SERiSS,’’St. George Rathbortie has 
written three of the brighest and most inter- 
esting stories ever published . The titles are 
as follows : 

Canoe and Camp Fire. 

A great boy’s story with the splendid set- 
ting of the woods of Maine. 

Paddling Under Palmettos. 

An exciting yarn with a well developed 
mystery that deepens as the story proceeds. 

Rival Canoe Boys. 

A tale of mystery, ill-fortune and perser- 
verance in the lake region. 

In Cloth. Illustrated. 

Price, ^i.oo per volume. 

street and smith , New York and Lo?idon 



AN ABSORBING ATHLETIC SERIES. 


The Rockspur Nine 

A Story of Basfbai^i,. 

The Rockspur Eleven 

A Story of Footbai,!,. 

The Rockspur Rivals 

A Story of Winter Sports. 

By GILBERT PATTEN. 


There is something wrong with the boy 
who is not thrilled as he reads these stories. 

They are full of plot and action and must 
appeal strongly to all lovers of baseball, foot- 
ball and kindred sports. The description of 
the games between rival teams makes very 
exciting and absorbing reading, and few boj^s 
with warm blood in their veins, having once 
begun the perusal of one of these books, will 
lay it down till it is finished. 

In Cloth. Illustrated. 

Price, $1.00 per volume. 


STREET AND SMITH, Ne7v York and London 


“BEST OF ALL BOYS’ BOOKS.” 


F rank 

Merriwe 11 ’s 


Schooldays 

Frank 

Merriwell’s 


Chums 

Frank 

MerriwelTs 


Foes. 


For many years the Frank Merriwell 
stories liave been deservedly popular among 
American boys. This is the first time the 
inimitable yarns have appeared in print, and 
every lad in the country should possess a 
copy of each volume in the series. The 
author is Burt T. Standish, whose fame as a 
writer of juvenile fiction is world- wide. 

In Cloth. Illustrated. 

Price, 1^1.00 per volume. 

STRKKT AND SMITH, New York and Lojidon 



A THRILLING WESTERN SERIES.^ 


Sunset Ranch 

A Story of Cowboy I^ifk. 

Chums of the Prairie 

A Story of thf Pinkwoods. 

The Young Range Riders 

A Story of Mfxico. 

By ST. GEORGE RATHBORNE. 


There are no more delightful characters in 
juvenile fiction than Karl, the young cowboy, 
and Cuthbert I^ee, his tenderfoot pard, 
whose strange adventures are chronicled in 
this attractive series. The two chums have 
to face death many times. Adventure fol- 
lows adventure with dazzling rapidity and 
there is not a dull moment throughout. 

In Cloth. Illustrated. 

Price, $1.00 per volume. 


STREET AND SMITH, New York and London 


L£ N ’ll 






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